


Not Gonna Die

by wantAwinchester



Series: The Winchester Chronicles [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Canonical Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, First Time Blow Jobs, Hurt Dean Winchester, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Oral Sex, Original Character Death(s), Virgin Dean, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 14:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 30,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2233098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wantAwinchester/pseuds/wantAwinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new spin on the pilot episode.  This diverges from Canon in a major way but follows the outline of the pilot as it was originally filmed.<br/>This is a complete story, it is however the first in a series of stories called The Winchester Chronicles.  The stories will all stand alone so read one, or read them all as they are posted.  I'll stop writing when the story is told - I don't know how many stories will make up the cycle.  The story is like a living thing and will branch out where it needs to.<br/>Dean Winchester shows up at his brother's place after four years with disturbing news about their father and convinces Sam to go with him to find John.  This is where the story becomes non-Canon.<br/>There is liberal use of swear words and descriptions of sexual acts.<br/>There's a relationship between the boys and tons of abusive asshole John.<br/>There is one flashback scene involving the abuse of a minor child and other milder descriptions, these scenes aren't sexual and are not overly graphic in nature but if you are sensitive to child abuse you may want to skip this one.<br/>There is very mild violence and some graphic descriptions of wounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published work. I welcome your comments as I'm always striving to improve as a writer but request that you be constructive in your feedback.  
> I do not own the characters portrayed they have been borrowed for this work and I thank the original screen writers who developed the Winchesters over the years for making them so dimensional and so life-like. Writing them was easier as there is established personalities to build from.  
> Any mistakes in geography or timing are mine. My beta reader did an amazing job in helping me find and correct inconsistencies, grammar and provided invaluable input as I bounced the story line off her at multiple points. I owe her a couple drinks and dinner the next time we get together! I think she had the harder job to be honest.  
> This work is complete, but I am working on a sequel which I hope will be finished in a couple of weeks.  
> Thank you very much if you took the time to read this work. I enjoyed writing it and hope each of you enjoys reading it.

Sam Winchester sat up with a start, listening in the silence for the sound that woke him. Reaching under his pillow he grabbed the 9mm he still slept with even though it scared Jess, four years after leaving the life for Stanford. There! He heard ragged, fractured breathing coming from the living room. Avoiding the squeaky floorboards he stalked through the bedroom door, down the hallway, and edged himself around the corner into the room with his gun held with both hands at eye level. He scanned the room looking for the source of the agonized breathing but could see nothing.

  
“I know you’re there, show yourself! Hands up and weapons on the floor where I can see them.” he called out softly moving closer to the end table where he kept salt and holy water, just in case. “Quickly!”

  
“S-s-s-sammy” the ragged voice stammered. “Take it easy, it’s me, Dean.” Keeping his gun aimed at the source of the voice, which didn’t sound anything like his brother, Sam took another step around the end table.

  
“Dean? Is that you?” Sam asked as he stepped even closer to the figure lying face down on the floor. Gun still trained on the intruder, Sam moved around the coffee table and reached one hand down to turn the stranger over to get a look at his face.

  
Dean groaned as he was roughly flipped onto his back. “Still don’t know your own strength do you?” he growled out, breathing even heavier through his mouth than before as pain from his broken ribs tore through his chest. Sam took a step back, weapon still trained on the intruder and Dean struggled painfully into a sitting position. “Put the gun down Sammy,” Dean gasped, adding “please” as an afterthought. Sam turned on the light next to the couch and lowered his weapon getting a better look at the man claiming to be his brother.

  
Scanning the figure in front of him, Sam noticed the signs of a recent and severe beating. He took a short, sharp breath as he surveyed the damage- bruised knuckles, face and throat, one eye swollen shut, a split lip and a possible broken nose, as well as probable internal injuries. It was his brother as near as he could tell, but what had the strength to mess him up that badly? “Fuck, Dean, what got the jump on you and how the hell did you let that happen?”

  
“Now don’t you sound just like Dad, baby brother. Got anything to drink?” Dean tried to smile up at his brother but the pain made it look as though he was grimacing even as he chuckled at the thought of Sam sounding anything at all like their father. Gun still in his hand, Sam backed out of the room and went to get a wet washcloth, whiskey and a couple of glasses along with a sliver knife, salt and holy water. “Still don’t trust it’s me,” Dean commented noticing what Sam brought back with him. “Give me the knife.” Dean pushed up his sleeve and used the sliver knife to make a shallow cut in his forearm drawing blood. He looked up at Sam with his eyebrow raised, “That pass the first test?” Sam grunted his assent and threw a handful of salt at his brother followed by a flask’s worth of holy water to wash it off.

  
Handing the washcloth to his brother, Sam sat down across from him, poured several fingers of whiskey into each glass and pushed one across the table as he tossed back a huge gulp. “So, what nightmare creature messed you up badly enough that you show up here after four years without a word? Why now? What the fuck have you done?”

Savoring the burn of the whiskey, Sam watched his brother closely as he played with the glass on the table before drinking the contents and pouring himself a second, larger measure from the open bottle. He paused and then answered all three questions with one whispered word, “Dad.” Dean threw back the second shot and made eye contact with his brother’s angry and questioning gaze.

  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He held up a hand as Dean took a breath to begin speaking, “Wait, wait here a minute.” Sam left the room and checked to see if Jess was still sleeping. Kissing her gently on the forehead he left the bedroom again, closed the door softly and returned to continue the awkward conversation with his brother. “All right Dean, let’s have it. Full sentences this time and less cryptic bullshit.” Sam caught his brother’s stare and willed him to speak as he threw himself into in the chair across from the sofa that Dean had managed to pull himself up on.


	2. Chapter 2

Rolling the mostly empty glass in his hands, Dean searched for the right words, conscious of his brother’s growing impatience with the heavy silence blanketing the room. The only audible sounds were those of his labored breathing and his brother’s shallower, angrier breaths. Making up his mind to just bite the bullet and get it over with, Dean leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He drew a final breath and began to talk.  
“Sammy," he began. “You know better than anyone that Dad was never the easiest person to live with, even at the best of times. When you left it was like,” he paused thinking. “like something broke in him, almost as if…. you took anything good in him with you that night you decided to leave.”

  
Sam snorted in frustration, “I think you mean the night he threw me out, threatening to beat me senseless if I ever returned, just because I wanted something more for myself than weapons, monsters and crappy motel rooms.” Dean sighed knowing that Sam could be twice as stubborn as their father was when he wanted to be.

  
“Whatever. He changed the night you,” Dean paused searching for the right word, finished the whiskey in his glass and poured another round for both of them. “That night… he changed that night and well, he just got worse. Becoming more demanding and even less fatherly, not that we could have ever accused him of being all that fatherly to begin with, right?” Looking up at his brother Dean could see the tightness in his jaw and practically hear his teeth grinding at the mention of their dad, John. Sam nodded tightly and gestured for Dean to continue. “It was like living with a fucking marine on steroids Sammy, nothing I did, nothing was good enough anymore for the son of a bitch. We fought constantly over which jobs to take and what actions we’d take once we got to ground zero. I tried to follow your example and leave more than once and fuck me, the guy was like a goddamn bloodhound. He’d fucking track me down and drag me back to wherever he was staying at the time and beat the crap out of me for daring to stand up to him.” Dean paused to sip at his drink blinking back the tears of anger and frustration that threatened to fall at the thought of their father’s relentless anger and ruthless inability to let his other son go.

  
Clearing his throat, Dean continued his monologue, “A couple of times I made it as far as San Francisco before he caught up to me and once I made it all the way here and was watching you, waiting for a moment to make contact when it dawned on me that I was leading the asshole right to your door. That just by being on campus I would bring you back into his line of sight and back into his world of hunting, monsters and beatings. You and your girlfriend…”

  
“Jess, her name is Jess.”

  
“You and Jess looked so happy, so content. I couldn’t, wouldn’t bring it all back down on you. I was, am, so proud of you for making it out and reaching for your own dreams. I backtracked and let him ‘find’ me again in Reno. I think he knew where I’d been because it was one of the worst beatings, ever. Both of us were pretty fucked up and it was weeks before we could hunt again. And the only thing worse than Dad on a hunt…,”

  
“…is Dad when he can’t hunt,” finished Sam taking another long look at the broken man sitting in front of him and imagined how difficult John would have made life for Dean once he’d dared to try to contact his outcast brother. “What’s changed? I mean, why are you here now? Not that I’m not glad to see you, God, Dean it’s been, what? Four years? I thought you’d have forgotten all about me by now, and what the hell beat the shit out of you before you dragged yourself to my door? Do I need to salt the entrances and get extra weapons from the car?” Sam got up and ran his hands through his shaggy brown hair as he looked around the apartment assessing its weaknesses and thinking of how he could bolster its defenses.

  
“Sit down Sam. Nothing’s after me. I’ve taken care of it, him, once and for all.” Dean looked down at the floor between his feet, still fighting for each painful breath as he tried to find the words for what he had to say next and feeling like there would never be the right words to tell Sam he’d finally beaten their old man to death.

  
“W-w-what do you mean him?” Sam choked out.

  
“Dad, Sammy, I’ve taken care of Dad. He’ll never trouble either one of us again.” This time Dean didn’t even try to stop the tears from falling as he remembered the sight of their father, abusive asshole aside, still their father lying in the pool of blood that had formed where he fell after the final kick to the head that broke his skull and flung bits of brain and bone around the hellhole of a room they were sharing. Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand he reached for his glass grunting in frustration at finding it empty.

  
“You, you killed him?” Sam asked in a voice reminiscent of a much younger man. With shaking hands, he poured them both another measure of whiskey, sipping at his before continuing. “You’re sure? You didn’t just beat him as badly as it appears he beat you? We both know it can be hard to tell sometimes with the swelling and blood. Head wounds always bleed like a bitch.” Watching his brother closely Sam moved to the coffee table so he was sitting right in front of his brother and picked up the washcloth and began to dab at his wounds. He gently lifted Dean’s face and was finally able to determine the cuts and bruises were several days old and beginning to heal over. The bruises were that awful shade of purple-yellow that indicates the body’s begun to clear away the spilled blood and the cuts were crusty with dried blood and freshly scabbed flesh. Setting the washcloth aside and taking the empty glass from Dean’s hands, Sam pulled his brother carefully into a hug, backing off slightly as the older man gasped with the pain from his ribs. Dean’s arms went around his brother as he tried to hug back without further insult to his broken bones. He turned his head into Sam’s neck and dried his tears on his t-shirt, only pulling back and breaking the hug when it was too painful to stay locked in his brother’s arms.

  
“There was no doubt about it Sammy. He was dead.” Dean sat back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. Damn it was harder than he imagined it would be, he thought as he looked anywhere but into his brother’s concerned eyes. “I messed up what was supposed to be a simple salt and burn by getting the grave site wrong. How the hell was I supposed to know that when the fucking graveyard had flooded a hundred years earlier, the coffins and the bones they contained were put back together without any regard to who went where and that each of the older sites ended up containing the bones of several different people? The fucking record just stated everyone had been reburied. And before you say it, I checked the records carefully and there was no mention of mixed reburials. So I salted and burned a bunch of bones without knowing they didn’t all belong to our spirit. As we were leaving town the spirit made an encore appearance in the back seat and it scared the living shit out of me. I lost control of the car and drove the Impala into a ditch. So not only did I fuck up the hunt, I fucked up Dad’s car.” Seeing Sam start to open his mouth to comment, Dean continued quickly. “Yeah, I know he gave it to me on my 18th, but face it, as long as the asshole was drawing breath that was his baby. I’ve never seen him so pissed off Sammy. His eyes got so black I could’ve sworn he was being ridden by a fucking demon. After we got the car back on the road he threw me against her, pinned his arm across my throat and demanded to know what the hell I’d been doing when I was supposed to be taking care of the bones.”

  
Feeling just a little too close to his brother, Dean painfully got up and moved to the chair Sam had vacated and gingerly lowered himself into it before refilling his glass. “Gonna need some more of this before this story’s over little brother.” Sam got up and went to the kitchen to rinse the washcloth and get the back-up bottle he kept under the sink before settling himself on the couch and waiting for Dean to find his voice again.

“Well you know me, never could keep my damn mouth shut when I needed to. I said ‘I’ve been jerking off watching Casa Erotica, what the fuck else would I be doing, sir’. There was just a little too much sarcasm for the piece of shit to take at one time so he threw me to the ground. I made it to my knees before he started to kick me back down, but he eventually caught me in the head and I blacked out.

  
When I came around we were in some shithole of a motel in Arizona. I’m still not sure how much time I lost; we’d been in Colorado hunting the ghost when he kicked me into submission, so maybe just a day? I guess he’s right when he says I just get stupider the older I get because I fucking couldn’t just leave it alone. When he got back from his supply run I was on his ass as soon as he walked through the door. I spun him around and caught him in the jaw. The punch knocked him back, but not enough to keep me out of his reach. Now he was beyond pissed and ready to take every mistake I’d made in 26 years out on me. Sammy, I couldn’t get away, I tried, and the fucker blocked every move I made. His fists just kept coming, even as my nose broke and the skin around my eyes split the asshole kept coming at my face. My ribs hurt like a son of a bitch and I figured they’d been cracked when he’d kicked the shit out of me earlier, so it was hard to get a really good shot at him. The first punch I threw was my best shot, but it fell short. The whole time the asshole was yelling at me, telling me how stupid I was and how I’d never be half the hunter you were at 15. I lost it when he started blaming me for you leaving. There was no way that fucking piece of shit wasn’t going to own up to driving you away. Fuck, I knew my role in the family was protecting you, no you - no role for me. I may not be the genius you are, but I was smart enough to know you were the only thing that had kept Dad,” Dean spit that last word out like it was a piece of rotten flesh, “that fucking asshole and I from killing each other. I saw red, I mean I saw it and pushed back with every last fucking ounce of strength I had and threw him across the room. He hit his head on one of the bedside tables and fell to the floor.”

  
“God help me Sammy, I could have picked him up, put pressure on the wound and put him to bed, but I didn’t, Sammy, I didn’t.” The tears had begun again in earnest and Dean’s voice hitched as he continued. “I didn’t, he repeated, “I, I couldn’t stop myself, I kicked that fucking piece of shit in the head until I felt the bone give way and then gave the fucking son of a bitch one more for good measure.”


	3. III.

Sam sat silent as his brother put his hands to his face and wept. He’d known from a very early age that Dean and their father were never going to see eye to eye on anything but him. He’d been afraid when he left that this would happen. When years passed with no news from either one of them, he thought they’d finally done each other in. His surprise at finding Dean in his apartment that night was genuine. He’d never expected to see his brother alive again after John slammed the door behind him, and he’d carried that guilt around with him until he met Jess. She helped him move past the disaster of a family he’d left behind and helped him see what kind of future they could have outside the strange hunter’s life he’d led until that point. He checked the time. Jess would be getting up in a couple of hours to head to her shift at the hospital and he didn’t necessarily want her to find his brother drunk and messed up before he had a chance to explain to her where he came from and why he’d finally shown up after all this time. He wondered if he could leave out the part where Dean killed their sorry excuse for a father. It was kind of self-defense if you used a very broad definition of the term, but there were more pressing concerns facing them both.

  
“Dean, it’s OK. You’re here with me and you’re safe,” way to be lame Sam thought, but he wasn’t really sure how to comfort someone who’d just confessed to murder. “We’ll work through it.” Dean looked up at his brother across the table and reached again for the bottle. “I think that’s enough. Let’s both keep clear heads while we work this out. Jess will be up for work soon and I’d just as soon not have to explain this to her before she leaves. I’d kinda like to have a plan in place before we get you two introduced properly.” Dean sat back somewhat amused by the thought of Sam introducing his girl to his formerly missing and now fugitive brother. Sam continued on ignoring Dean’s unspoken commentary. “Do you have extra clothes in the car? Wait, do you have a car?” Dean nodded his assent to both questions. “The Impala?”

  
Dean laughed at that, “of course I’ve got my baby, Sammy. I wasn’t gonna leave that beauty behind!”

  
“Fine, I’ll go grab you some clean clothes and you go get in the shower and clean up a bit. Once you’ve changed I’ll wake Jess and let her know I’ve got to help an old friend out and won’t be back until later. We can head out and get you something to eat and both of us some coffee while we figure out what we need to do next.  Wait, do you need medical attention?  Should we head to the ER?”  Dean smiled at the river of words that flowed from his brother’s mouth.  Sam was always good at thinking about the practical side of things when necessary and today was no exception.  He hated that he’d brought this trouble to his brother’s door, but was absurdly comforted by the sight and sound of his brother taking charge and helping to carry this new burden.  Yeah, finding Sammy had been the only right decision in a long string of fucking terrible ones.

“So, what did you do with, um, you know, with….well after?” Sam asked after they’d settled into a booth at an off campus diner and placed their order. “I mean…” his voice trailed off as he watched his brother dose his coffee with enough sugar to hype up a class of kindergarten students. “Did you take care of things before you left?” He sipped at his black coffee as he waited patiently while Dean rolled the question around in his head either trying to remember what he’d done, or trying to find the right words to verbalize it.

  
“That’s the real bitch of it Sammy, I’m not exactly sure. I collapsed after I, well after… and woke up a few hours later. I remember seeing him still lying there, unmoving, but I can’t fucking remember what I did next.” Dean groaned as he gulped his still very hot coffee, burning his mouth and the back of his throat. “The next thing I remember, and this is the truth dude, the next thing I’m driving west into the setting sun. I lost another whole god damned day. I was the same bloody, dirty mess I was when I showed up at your place last night. All the way here I tried to recall anything after waking up and seeing the asshole cold and dead on the floor and I just fucking can’t!” Sam gestured to Dean to keep his voice down and motioned to the waitress for a coffee refill.

  
“Your order will be right up guys. That must have been some fight,” she commented looking at Dean. Sam knew his brother was feeling at least a little more human when he gave her his patented Winchester half smile as he told her that she should see the other guy. Sam winced internally at that thought but was glad to see his brother was back to his somewhat normal self.

  
They were both fidgeting with the silverware lost in thought when the waitress returned with their food. They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before Sam spoke up. “So, you don’t know whether or not you cleared the room and took out the, um,” Sam glanced around the diner and lowered his voice, “the, um, garbage. That could be a problem.”

  
“You think I don’t know that, Sam? It’s been my only thought after the fucking pain!” Dean attacked the sausage on his plate with his fork before continuing. “I checked online and didn’t see anything reported about a John Doe turning up DOA, so I must have moved it, him, right? I mean, Arizona is hot even now and I can’t imagine that it, he, the room would have gone unnoticed for too long. Right?” He searched his brother’s eyes looking for some kind of agreement, some kind of validation of his internal logic. “I mean, you know man, the smell alone.”

  
“I got it Dean,” was Sam’s terse answer. “I’m trying to think. Give me a couple of minutes here, this, damn it Dean, this isn’t something that’s going to lend itself to a simple resolution. It’s not like we can call around asking about,” he paused. “those kind of things without raising suspicion and you sure as hell can’t go around asking questions looking like you do right now. You’re nearly as scary as some of the things we’ve hunted in the past!” Sam reached over and swiped a piece of toast from his brother’s plate as they both retreated to their own thoughts again while they finished their breakfast.


	4. IV.

“Jess’s at work,” Sam opened the door to the apartment and continued, “so we can talk here in privacy while we figure out our plan of attack.” They’d thrown out Dean’s bloodied clothes in a couple of dumpsters they passed as they returned to Sam’s place. Sam opened up his laptop, logged into his wireless server and asked Dean if he remembered the name of the town where they’d been that last night.

  
“Shit Sammy, I told you I don’t remember a thing past waking up and then driving west. I do remember desert so it’s more south than north and I hit the Pacific at San Diego, so very south.” Sam pulled up a map of Arizona and checked the major and minor highways headed west out of southern Arizona.

  
“Well,” Sam drawled, “the good news is there’s probably only about 800 miles or so of desert if you head due east from San Diego. The bad news, because of course there’s bad news, is that there are probably hundreds of shitty ass little towns with run down motels where you guys could have put up. If we get some luck on our side and I think you’re due some, we should be able to check the area in a couple of days. You’ll have to stay out of sight for a while though. No one’s gonna even remotely buy that you’re any kind of law enforcement or search and rescue looking like you’ve been 10 rounds with a heavyweight.” Dean snorted at that and commented under his breath that it was the world’s most one sided prize fight until the end but nodded his agreement.

  
“Wait, back up there partner, we? You’re planning on going back with me?” Sam nodded as he grabbed a bag and headed to the bedroom to pack a few things for the trip. Dean followed behind still questioning. “What about school? Work? Your girlfriend? You’re just gonna walk away from what you’ve built here? For what? For your fuck up loser brother? I just came here to tell you what happened with our piece of shit father. I didn’t, don’t expect you to drop your life and come with me. You’ve got what you wanted here Sam, I can’t be the one that takes it away from you. I won’t be!” Dean turned and headed for the door, intent on getting to the car and driving away before Sam could catch up to him. He’d forgotten how fast the yeti could move when he was motivated and Sam caught him before he even got the door open.

  
“Wait just a damn minute, Dean!” Sam had him up against the door and was seriously invading his personal space. “There’s no way in hell you walk in here looking like death warmed over, announce you’ve killed Dad and then get to walk away like you just announced that you’ve been elected prom king. Fuck you if you think I’m going to sit here acting like none of this happened and just let you stumble around and end up arrested and charged with murder. I’m going back to Arizona with you whether you like it or not and you don’t have to like it!” Sam backed up and silently challenged Dean to argue with him. They locked eyes, mouths drawn into tight lines, pent up energy buzzing around them like angry bees. Dean broke first and looked down at the floor, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

  
“Fine,” he bit out, voice heavy with fatigue and sarcasm. “I’ll need a driver anyway, not sure I can keep going much longer. I can’t really remember the last time I slept, but Sam I swear to whatever entity is listening that I will bring you back here and kick your ass out of the Impala and back to your apple pie life once we figure out what I did with Dad’s body. No Sam,” Dean hurried on as Sam opened his mouth to speak, “you have no fucking choice in this. It’s my terms or I go without you. I’m not gonna be the one that fucks up your life. I’ve done enough of that already and I’m done.”

  
Dean glared at his brother daring him to contradict anything he’d said. Sam knew how stubborn Dean could be and just nodded, headed back to finish packing his bag and write a note to Jess letting her know he’d be gone for a few days and that he’d check in with her at least once a day. Watching his baby brother get ready to walk away from his dream life, Dean slumped against the door thanking the same entities that he’d invoked in his diatribe against Sam for motivating his brother to stick with him. Gods knew he didn’t have the strength to go on without him.


	5. V.

Forty-eight hours later they pulled away from the place where they’d spent the night. That was the fifth motel they’d checked since the day before. Sam, acting the role of a Federal Marshall, questioned the desk staff and local law enforcement officers using a search for a protected witness as his cover story. Dean was tired of having to take a back seat in the investigation and his various healing wounds itched like a son of a bitch making him even more cranky than usual. At least he was rested enough to take over driving. He hated the way Sam waited until the absolutely last second to shift gears and was almost ready to throttle him when they’d finally stopped for the night. “So where to today, Marshall?” He asked as they crossed the town line and headed east.

  
“There are a couple of towns just south and north of this road once we get to US10. Let’s head north first and then cover the southern one, which is a little farther off the path, if we come up dry again.” Sam had to raise his voice to be heard over the Black Sabbath that was screaming through the speakers. At least Dean seemed less prickly today. Driving always did help soothe him, if Sabbath could ever be called soothing. “Does any of this look familiar? Anything at all tripping a trigger in your weird little mind? Please speak up if it does so we’re not just spinning our wheels in the sand.”

  
“Wow, is that really what you think? That I’m just driving around for funzies or some kind of bizarro-world reunion trip? Fuck Sam, if I saw anything even vaguely familiar I would say something. I can’t believe you think I’m so fucked up that I’d waste your time for nothing!” Dean reached for the volume control and clicked the music up to concert hall decibels as he glared at his brother who was shaking his head.

  
Sam turned the volume back down so he could be heard before speaking. “Oversensitive much, Dean? I mean damn, dude you’ve got to chill just a bit. Not everyone’s out to get you and certainly not me. Don’t get me wrong, I realize this has been traumatic – and that’s an understatement – even for you, but fuck man, you’ve got to cut me some slack here. I’m doing the best I can to make sense of the last couple of days as it is. Even for us, having you show up beaten half to death and telling me you killed Dad is an unusual circumstance. I happen to think I’ve handled it pretty well considering.”

  
Sam slumped in his seat and stared out at the desert flashing past his window, taking a few deep breaths before speaking again. “Dean, dude, I’m on your side. I always have been, whether I’ve been with you or not. You were my mom and my dad as well as my brother. Don’t think I don’t know what kind of pressure Dad, no I won’t continue to call him that, John put on you as we were growing up and once I was old enough to realize the depths of his obsession with the thing that got Mom I knew, I just knew that he’d given up all his rights as my father.” Sam paused again, gathering his thoughts and he saw Dean’s hand reaching out to turn the volume up again. A truly classic Winchester ‘I don’t want to hear this so I won’t’ move. He grabbed the other man’s hand and held on to it as he continued.

  
“Dean, it’s always been you I looked up to, John was just the jerk who dragged us around from town to town and left us to fend for ourselves. You were my constant, my hero, the man I tried so hard to become, but there was no way I could ever be even half the hunter you were. So I reached for where I knew I could succeed. School has always come so easily to me and I had to struggle to keep up with you and John on hunts. That night when I told him what I wanted and he threw me out… I’ve never had a chance to tell you this…” Sam choked up just slightly and Dean grabbed his hand back and put it firmly on the wheel. “I stopped, Dean, and stared for the longest time at the door he slammed, willing you to walk out and join me. I knew you wouldn’t, couldn’t, but I sat there wishing for it nonetheless, not moving on for a couple of hours after the lights in your room went out.”

  
The atmosphere in the car was heavy and the silence deafening as they continued down the highway. Dean’s knuckles turning white under the bruising as he gripped the wheel as if it were a life preserver and he a drowning man. God damn and fuck it all, he thought wanting to close his eyes and replay Sam’s words to make sure he’d remember them. Thinking about his brother sitting outside the motel and waiting for him nearly tore him apart and he didn’t trust himself to speak. He ran his hand across his mouth and along his jaw feeling the couple days’ worth of stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave off that morning and moving on to rub at his ear as he searched for the right words. “Sammy, I…” he started before Sam cut him off.

  
“No, Dean, I’m not done and damn, you owe it to me to listen.” He took a deep breath. “I walked away that night knowing what John, that mother-fucker, would do to you if you stayed. I took my phone out hundreds of times the first few days as I hitched to California, but couldn’t bring myself to call. I’m so sorry, Dean, I couldn’t face the pain I knew I’d hear in your voice and I would have heard it whether it was there or not.”

  
Sam felt the tears pricking at his eyelids and blinked them away as he flashed back to the first awful days he’d endured after being cast out. The truckers he snagged rides with were mostly friendly and interested more in getting their jobs done than in the young man riding with them. Yeah, of course there were those who wanted something more. Sam knew he’d had a sort of feminine appeal, kind of soft around the edges, that invited the more adventurous drivers to ask, no to demand sexual favors in exchange for rides. He’d had to fight off more than one on his way to California. It wasn’t like he’d never considered experimenting with homosexual sex it just would never be with those mopes. Sam had someone else in mind entirely whenever he wandered down that path in his dreams.

  
His first year at Stanford he pretty much kept his head down and loaded himself with so many credit hours that he barely had time for the work study job he had at the library much less any kind of a social life. He thought about Dean all the time, wondering if he and their dad had killed each other yet and if not who was currently holding the upper hand. He’d occasionally cruise the bars, gay and straight, scattered around campus and had more than a handful of casual one night stands but there was no one he felt drawn to for more than a brief night’s worth of sex, no one he’d considered seeing more than twice. The couple of guys he’d been with came the closest to easing his homesickness but he knew in his heart that his feelings for his brother were wrong. That they were demented fantasies which sprang from the debasement their fuck up of a father subjected them to on a nearly daily basis. Knew in his mind that thinking of Dean this way was sick but he couldn’t help returning to the comfort of those thoughts time and time again.

  
The two boys had been each other’s lode stone, sole source of comfort and often their only company when they were left alone for weeks at a time as the person responsible for them conveniently forgot that he had children to care for as he drank and whored himself into oblivion. When Dean didn’t follow him out that last night, Sam knew his brother didn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t ever feel the same depth of attraction for him that he felt. Some of his favorite and most comforting memories were those nights when he was scared or anxious and Dean would crawl into his bed and hold him until he fell asleep.

  
Sam shook himself out of his memories and looked over at his brother making sure he hadn’t been able to read his mind as he retreated into the past. “Take this next exit. The town we’re looking for is Las Flores. Who the fuck calls a desert town ‘The Flowers’?” He noticed his brother starting to smile and added, “I guess you’d have to have a pretty warped sense of humor to do something so obviously lame.”

  
“It’s called ‘irony’, little brother. I’d have thought they taught you that at your fancy ass university. If not, then I’d see someone about getting a refund considering that with my lowly GED education I was able to see that for what it was.” Dean smiled as he looked over to his brother noting with satisfaction the world class bitch-face his brother wore. He was absurdly pleased that he hadn’t lost the ability to bring the bitch out in Sam. “Awe, come on Sammy, you know I’m just teasing you but it’s nice to see you’re still my sensitive little brother.” Sam gave his brother the finger as he turned again to look out the window.

  
“Dean! Pull over here.” Sam was out of the car even before Dean brought her to a complete stop. “I want to get the field glasses from the trunk.”

  
“Fuck, Sam! A little more warning next time. I took some serious tread off her tires back there.” Dean patted the Impala as he made his way to the back and opened the trunk. It took a couple of minutes of rooting around to find the binoculars and he handed them to Sam. “What is it? What’s so urgent it couldn’t wait?”

  
Scanning the horizon, Sam searched for the dark shapes that had caught his eye as they sped past at 80 mph. He handed the glasses to Dean and pointed off in to the distance. “There, no a little to the left, what do you see?” Dean lowered the glasses and squinted off into the distance before bringing them back to his eyes a second time before giving them back to his brother.

  
“Birds, Sam, I see birds. So what?” He scuffed his boots in the gravel at the roadside while he watched as Sam brought the glasses back to his eyes, scanning the horizon a second time. “Come on, man, what? Are we going to stand here forever while you add them to your birding life list or what?”

  
“Not just birds, Dean, vultures. Those are vultures circling their latest meal.” Sam looked again just to be sure and gave the binoculars back to his brother, pointing him in the right direction. “Vultures are carrion eaters, Dean, which means….”

  
“I fucking know what it means brainiac, they eat dead….” Dean lowered the glasses as the thought of what the dead thing the vultures were eating made itself to the forefront of his mind. “Fuck, Sam, could that be….Dad?” Sam turned to respond as the Impala’s engine suddenly revved itself way past the redline. The boys locked eyes as they simultaneously took a step away from the car.

  
Sam felt cold air bring up goose bumps and he swallowed hard before speaking. “Dude, who’s in the car?”

  
Dean pointed to the keys that were still in the trunk’s lock. “That car always was his baby.”


	6. VI.

The engine died almost as suddenly as it had started and both men approached the car cautiously. They each grabbed a salt gun and few extra rounds from the trunk and scanned the area around the car looking for any kind of disturbance. Expecting an attack and making sure they each knew where the other was, they combed the area within a 20 yard radius of the parked car meeting back at the trunk.

  
“Nothing, I’ve got nothing,” Dean growled out frustrated with himself. “I guess we know now that I didn’t salt and burn the mother-fucker. Nothing like the vengeful spirit of an abusive son of a bitch to make the party that much more exciting.” Sam reached out to touch Dean’s arm in comfort but the older man shook it off. “Chalk up another fuck up in the Dean Winchester’s a complete moron column.” He wrenched the driver side door open and flung himself into the seat, gasping from the pain it caused him.

  
Sam folded himself into the shotgun seat and said, “Dude, seriously, you can’t hold yourself responsible for this. Fuck, Dean, he beat you senseless. For all you know, and might I remind you that you don’t, you thought you had salted and burned his corpse before heading west.” Sam checked his watch for the time. “It’s getting close to eleven. Let’s head to this Las Flores paradise and see if that was where you two put up. There’s a better than average possibility that it’s a coyote or something lying dead out there in the desert.”

  
“Yeah, OK.” Dean was only slightly worried as he turned the key that fired up the engine, hoping like hell that the spirit hadn’t suddenly materialized enough to disable the engine and smiling when the car roared to life. “Are you going to do your Federal Marshall thing or are we going to try to stay lower key?”

  
“Yeah, I’ll do the Marshall thing and see if anyone saw John around town while you were out cold and then let’s get some lunch, I can hear your stomach growling from here. With any luck, no one even knew you were in the room with him but I still don’t want to risk you walking around freely while you still look so beat up. If this is the right town we have to assume the room was a mess when you left and a stranger who’s been beaten will definitely set off alarms.” Sam settled back ready for his brother to protest and was surprised to see him nodding in agreement.

  
“That makes sense. I’ll stay scarce while you ask around. What do ya think moving a little further west to the next town if this Las Flores is the place we’re looking for? We can provision up, and spend the night before coming back down and heading off toward those vultures.” Dean looked a little sick at the thought of the vultures, but swallowed it down as he continued. “I mean, if I’m supposed to keep a low profile staying in beautiful Las Flores would certainly be a mistake, right?”

  
Dean pulled the car over behind a foreclosed home on the outskirts of town and broke in while his brother headed into town to gather intelligence. Fuck he hated waiting, he was hungry and thirsty and he really hoped Sam remembered to bring lunch. He sat down with his back against a wall facing the door and allowed his mind to digest that morning’s conversation with his brother. Of all the scenarios he’d imagined after his brother stalked off that night, the last thing he’d pictured was Sam waiting for him to follow. The thought of his little brother sitting in the dark watching for him tore at his heart while at the same time warming it.

  
The moment their father had put the infant Sam in his arms, told Dean to take him out of the burning house and take care of him, it became his life’s mission. He loved his little brother more than anything, almost more than he loved the memory of their mom. It was more often than not Dean who made sure infant Sammy was fed and changed. Hell, he’d even potty trained him when their dad left them at Bobby Singer’s one summer. He felt responsible for every bump, bruise, scrape and nightmare that plagued Sam growing up. John was more reasonable, more human, when Sam was small, still making a half assed effort to be an accountable, and more or less kind father. However once he had the boys with him on the road full time, he changed. John’s temper grew shorter and shorter, maybe it was just the years passing without any sign of the creature that had taken his wife and their mother from them, but every year he seemed to get meaner. Add in some booze and the guy was a powder keg ready to blow at the slightest perceived infraction of the rules.

  
Dean did his best to keep Sammy in line and out from under their dad’s radar often taking responsibility for things Sam had done in order to preserve Sam’s worldview of a happy family and keep John’s belt off his back. Many nights Dean went to bed hungry from the dinner he’d been denied and sore from the beating he earned for things he could no longer remember. He’d just look over at his brother sleeping peacefully and know that he could endure whatever the asshole could deal out as long as he kept his hands and belt off of Sam.

  
The first time John beat Sam he was 8 and afraid of a monster in the closet. When Sam went to John about his fear, the fucker laughed at him, handed him a .45 and told him to shoot to kill. Sam knew how to be careful around guns, knives and assorted bladed weapons, but hadn’t yet been taught how to handle a gun. He was little and he was scared, so he started to cry. John, with his usual lack of fatherly grace, grabbed the little boy and hit him over and over again with his hand. Dean had been off hanging around the older guys in town and practicing petty theft at the local convenience store. He’d gotten his brother his favorite candy bar and was feeling pretty proud of himself when he walked into their rooms and saw the asshole hitting his little brother. He was young himself and hadn’t yet reached his full height or strength, but he tore into the mother-fucker hitting his brother, HIS brother, with everything he had. John subdued him easily despite being full on drunk and he earned himself a beating with the belt for interfering in what John felt was a justifiable punishment. It was years before Dean left Sam alone in the same room with the asshole again. That was the first night that Dean held his baby brother as they fell asleep, each needing the comfort the presence of the other could provide.

  
“Still thinking dirty thoughts about Sam, you sick fuck,” the ghost of John Winchester growled out, startling Dean from his thoughts. “I thought I’d purged those from your mind when I threw the ungrateful shit out. You know I don’t tolerate weakness and he was weak.” Dean leapt to his feet, jacked a shell into the salt gun and spun around looking for the source of the voice. “And you, look at you sitting here while someone else does your job. You make me ashamed to name you my son. Both of you make me wish Mary’d miscarried. She’d still be here if it hadn’t been for your brother. You two fucking girls deserve each other.”

  
“Come on and show yourself you mother-fucking son of a bitch,” Dean yelled to the empty house as he stalked the rooms looking for the source of the voice. “Afraid to face me? You should be! I finally gave you what you deserved and I’m not at all sorry. Awe, what’s wrong, Dad, afraid you’ll meet your match again. Come on, don’t run and hide like the girl you just called me. Face me mother-fucker!”

  
“You couldn’t even finish the job you started with me, asshole. I can’t fucking believe you didn’t salt and burn my remains.” John’s ghost laughed, “I guess I’ve got to thank you for being such a sorry excuse for a hunter or I wouldn’t be having this much fun now!”

  
Dean, still furious, knew the spirit had retreated when he could once again heard sounds outside the house. He kicked a hole in the dry wall to relieve some of his frustration and sank back down to the floor, salt gun across his knees to wait for Sam. He hoped like hell he’d be back soon.


	7. VII.

Sam headed to the police station first after dropping his brother off. He passed the Harbor View motel on his way into the “downtown” area of Las Flores and had to wonder what kind of drugs the founders of the dilapidated shithole were doing when they named their little slice of paradise. He was still chuckling about it as he pulled the Impala into a space in front of the cop shop. Stretching as he got out of the car, Sam took a look around the town square and noticed that like many of the small towns they’d been in over the years that the majority of the storefronts were empty, giving the place a sense of sad desolation.

  
Seeing a flash of movement from the corner of his eye, he turned quickly to his left. Sam checked the small square again and saw the flash a second time. It was fleeting, but there was definitely something or someone skirting the outside edges of his eye sight. He looked around once more before heading to the doors with the distinct impression that he was being watched. “US Marshall Allman,” he said to the desk sergeant as he flashed his ID. “I need to speak with someone in charge.”

  
“Sheriff’s office is down the hall on the right. He’s gonna want to talk’ta ya, I’ll let him know you’re on your way back.” Somewhat surprised by the ease of access to the sheriff, Sam made his way down the hall and knocked on the door.

  
“Come on in, Marshall,” called a friendly voice. “I was wondering how long it’d take the federales to get involved down here. I’m Sheriff Manuel Garcia.” The sheriff was middle aged and balding, but still kept himself in very good shape. He rose, shook Sam’s hand and gestured him to one of the chairs in front of the desk.

  
“Thank you, sir. I’m US Marshall Allman,” Sam flipped his ID open again. “I’m here are about a protected witness who went missing in Colorado about a week ago.” He handed over a picture of John. “Have you seen this man around town? We had some intelligence saying that he’d been spotted headed south towards the border and we’re checking all the small towns down this way.”

  
The sheriff studied the picture and handed it back to Sam. “Well now, I can’t say I’ve seen the man but I might know what happened to him.”

  
“What do you mean?”

  
The older man took a sip of his coffee. “I’m sorry son, would you like some coffee? It’s not the best but it’s better than nothing.” Shaking his head no, Sam indicated for the sheriff to continue. “Couple a nights ago there was some trouble over at the Harbor View. You probably passed it on your way into town. Anyways, their overnight desk man, Adam, Adam Lopez, said he heard sounds of fighting coming from one ‘a the rooms around 10ish. The sounds stopped ‘bout a half hour later and he figured everything’d been sorted out. The room’d been rented for the week and there was a do not disturb sign out on the door, so it didn’t get cleaned the next day. Day after that though, the maid Caroline, said she decided to knock on the door and check to make sure that the guest didn’t need any extra towels or some clean up service.”

  
Sheriff Garcia leaned back in his chair and finished off his coffee before continuing, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the look of impatience on Sam’s face. “Well, anyways, she thought she’d see if there was anything the guest needed. There was no answer when she knocked and she hesitated before letting herself into a room with do not disturb on the door, but figured better to be more helpful that not. It was a darn good thing she did, the room wasn’t exactly wrecked, but there had been an obvious struggle. She called out for anyone that might be in the washroom, asking if everything was OK, and walked a little farther into the room. That was when she saw the blood. The owners, the Robertson’s called me over as soon as she told them what she found.”

  
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, son, but if your witness was in that room he’s either dead or a killer. There was a lake of dried and drying blood on the floor. More blood than someone should be able to lose and live to tell about it.” Almost ecstatic at the chance to relay the gory details to someone from outside of town, the sheriff leaned forward again with a self-satisfied smile on his face and continued after a brief pause. “I had a feeling…you know, cop’s instinct, that there was something bigger going on, drugs, guns or maybe people trafficking so I went ahead and sealed off the room as evidence figuring someone’d come along eventually.”

  
Sam wondered how long they’d have kept the room sealed and undisturbed had he not shown up today and was kind of grossed out by the thought, but grateful he’d be able to take a look at the remaining evidence after he questioned the owners and employees. “Ah…yes, excellent thinking and very much appreciated. I would definitely like to take a look and I’ll need to question everyone over at the, um,” he looked back in his notes watching the sheriff’s facial expression as he fumbled for the motel name which he knew he’d never forget, “the Harbor View. I’m especially interested in speaking with the maid and the night clerk.”

  
“Well, now Adam’s not gonna be around this morning, him being night shift and all, but we should be able to catch the Robertson’s and Caroline. I’ll bring my car around and we can head over together.”

  
Sam groaned inwardly at the thought of the unwanted partnership that had just been thrust on him, but couldn’t think of a good enough reason to convince the local guy to stay put. He did however want to take his own car. “I’ve got a car sir, and I did pass the motel on the way in. I’d just as soon meet you over there so that you don’t have to be inconvenienced by driving me back to the office.” Sam was making his way to the front of the building and the main entrance before the sheriff could protest.

  
After getting a positive ID on John’s picture from the owners of the motel, Sam had the sheriff let him into room number 10. Turning as he walked through the door Sam told Sheriff Garcia that he needed some time alone in the room. That his ‘process’ required him to try to visualize the crime without any outside influence. ‘Gotta love police procedurals on TV,’ Sam thought as he closed the door on the suitably impressed face.

  
Standing just inside the doorway, he scanned the room noting that it was pretty well trashed. John and Dean had definitely torn the place up before passing out. He winced as he saw a dent in the drywall that had to have been made by one of their heads and the numerous smudged bloodstains that were probably made by his brother’s fists as John avoided his punches. Moving farther into the room he noticed that the body appeared to have been dragged out, by the heels judging from the width of the drag marks, and also saw a couple of bloody foot prints that bore the pattern of the treads on Dean’s boots. He made a mental note that they’d need to get him some new ones at the next stop. Sam squatted and stared at the pool of now tacky and brownish blood that filled the space between the two beds, imagining the fury that had driven his brother to make those final, fatal kicks to the head that had ended the asshole’s sorry life.

  
“Gotta say, Sam. I always knew you were an oversensitive, sniveling little bitch, but I never figured you’d come to grieve at the site of my death.”  
Sam shivered, stood and scanned the room again, this time looking for the source of the voice. He knew who’s it was, he still heard the fucker’s voice in his nightmares.

“Show yourself, asshole or are you too afraid of your ‘sensitive’ son,” Sam ground the words out through clenched teeth as his eyes darted across walls, corners and ceiling.

  
John’s shade flickered into sight near the door to the bathroom; he was able to hold the shape for only a couple of seconds before going dark. “And just what would you do, Sammy, if I held my shape? Don’t see a salt gun. So what would you do? Cry and run off to find your big brother? The two of you are a disgrace to the hunter name, shit….the Winchester name! Neither one of you could ever find his own ass with both hands, always whining on and on about family and forgetting your training like a couple of fucking morons.” Sam cringed at the hateful words. Given what had happened with the car that morning, he’d thought about bringing the salt gun in with him, but didn’t know how he’d explain that to the local sheriff. Of course, as long as John didn’t materialize he’d have nothing to aim at anyway.

  
“Dad…John, you son of a bitch, show yourself. You know I haven’t got any salt, what are you so fucking afraid of that you’re cowering out of sight? Don’t you want to see your prodigal son and give him a final good bye?” Sam was speaking just above a whisper figuring the sheriff had his ear practically glued to the door. “Come on asshole; show me what you can do!”

  
John’s laughter rang through the room. “You walk into a room you have to know…know,” he repeated with emphasis, “is being haunted by a vengeful spirit, completely unprepared, idiot. And your loser brother…the fucker kills me, but doesn’t have the fucking brains to salt and burn me. If I were still alive I’d fucking disown the sorry set of you.”

  
The cold left the room as suddenly as it had appeared and Sam knew the apparition had moved on. “Shit! Dean!” he thought as he made one final scan of the room. He needed to get back to the house where he’d left his brother, hoping, but not counting on their father to leave Dean alone. Sam hurriedly thanked the sheriff and told him he’d be getting back to him shortly. Once the sheriff had resealed the room and driven off, he asked the Robertson’s to recommend a place where he could get food to go. No way was he going to give Dean this news without placating him first with a bacon cheeseburger and fries. One cranky Winchester man was more than enough to deal with.


	8. VIII.

Dean had the car headed east again and was gesturing with the sandwich in his hand and talking with his mouth full. “So what did he say to you? He actually appeared? Shit! All I got was his voice and his nasty comments.” Sam had forgotten that his excitable brother often forgot to swallow his food before speaking. At least he could look straight ahead. “I mean, shit, if he’d have appeared I would gotten at least one shot in.”

  
“Which would have only dispersed the spirit temporarily, we’d still need to track down where you, or whomever, dumped the body and get it taken care of properly.” Sam picked at the remains of his chicken sandwich and decided he was done eating, so he carefully collected the assorted wrappers on the front seat and put them back in the bag.

  
“What do you mean by whoever dumped the body? I obviously did, who else would have known to look for him there? Fuck, he’d put plenty of miles between us and the last job. There was no reason for anyone in that shit can town to know anything about us.” Dean glanced over at his brother who seemed to be lost in thought and looking straight ahead.

  
Sighing out loud and moving his body so that he could look at his brother, Sam paused, searching for the right words before he spoke again. “Hell, Dean, I don’t know. I’ve been thinking and given the extent of your injuries, which were still severe by the time you made it to my place even though they were already healing, I don’t see how you could have dragged his….the body out to the car and then lifted him into the trunk without help. Those cracked ribs of yours seemed pretty painful, even several days later and it wasn’t like he was a small man.”

  
Sam watched his brother thinking through what had just been said, the small muscle near his mouth twitching as he considered the problem his injuries presented to their hypothesis. “It makes sense, Dean,” he continued. “There’s no way in hell you’d have driven off without taking care of the remains. I mean, shit, of all the vengeful spirits we’ve ever come up against, considering everything the asshole did to us when he was alive, you’d have known this would be one hell of a fucking pissed off nightmare spirit. No way, would you have walked no matter how fucked up you were.”

  
The car picked up speed as Dean considered his brother’s words. He could see the hard line of his brother’s jaw working as he looked over to see if he was done speaking. Glancing down at the seat between them he considered the salt guns they had taken in to the car with them when they left town. Dean didn’t think he could ever bring himself to discharge one in the car even if John did make an appearance. He wouldn’t risk his brother and he wouldn’t risk his baby. Rubbing distractedly at his itching facial wounds, he searched for the right words. He knew they were both dancing the around the topic of the fucktard’s latest antics and he wanted to ask Sam just what the asshole had said to him, knowing he’d have been at least as cruel, if not crueler to the younger man, but didn’t necessarily want to share what degrading comments the fucker had flung his way. What was that called, he thought, right a catch-22.

  
“Hey, so what are you thinking?” Sam’s question brought Dean’s thoughts back into the car. He decided that he could do avoidance for the time being if that’s what Sam wanted, but also knew he wasn’t prepared to just let the subject of what had occurred earlier go completely.

  
Running his hand through his spikey hair, Dean thought for another minute or two before answering. “I’m thinking about what we might need to find where that meal of your vulture friends is located. I’m thinking we need a GPS for sure in order to get back to the car, a couple of backpacks, plenty of water, protein bars, salt, lighter fluid and of course the salt guns and a shit ton of ammo. If we set out early enough tomorrow we might be able to get it all taken care of by lunch time. Because you’re right about one thing, little brother, if I was hauling his dead ass around, we’re not gonna find it too far from the road.”

  
“All right then, let’s do this!”

  
Dean looked over at his brother and punched the accelerator. Sam threw back his head and laughed as the car picked up speed. For the time being they were both focused on the immediate job at hand, thoughts of the past forgotten as they went flying down the road.


	9. IX.

“Tell me again why I had to get rid of perfectly broken in boots?” Dean whined as he walked around their room in the new ones they’d picked up earlier while trying to break them in a bit before walking out in the desert in the morning. “Hell, Sam, it’s not like they know I was there, or like they are ever going to be comparing my boots to the prints in the room. I’m gonna end up with blisters and it’s gonna be all your damn fault.” He threw a couple of protein bars at Sam as they divided the overall weight between the two packs.

  
Sam put a couple extra water bottles in his own pack knowing his brother’s ribs were still really tender. “You know why and you know I’m right. Shit, Dean, I can’t remember you being this bitchy before I left.” Sam grinned as Dean flipped him off. As fucked up as the situation they were facing was, he was really glad to be back together with his brother. Things were really easy between them, almost as though they hadn’t spent the last four years apart. He’d forgotten how good Dean was at teasing him out of his fears and anxieties. His cell phone rang. “It’s Jess. I’ll be right back,” he called out as he went out the parking lot.

  
“No Jess, I can’t just leave him and come home.” Sam pushed his shaggy hair back off his face as he listened for what felt the hundredth time as Jessica tried to convince him that he didn’t owe anything to a brother he hadn’t seen for four years. “I told you, he’s not just my brother. The guy practically raised me. Everything I am is due to him.” He held the phone away from his ear as she continued on in the same vein. “Look, baby I get that you don’t get it, but I’m asking you to trust me. He’s all the family I have left and I’ve told you dozens of times I could have called him just as easily as he could have called me and I chose not to for a lot of reasons; reasons that I’m not necessarily ready to share.”

  
He glanced back at the door to their room wondering what Dean was thinking as Jess continued with her tirade. “Of course I love you, but I love him too. He’s family, and Jess, if you love and accept me you’re going to a least have to make an effort to accept him, because now that I’ve found him again, I’m not going to just let him go.” Sam was losing patience as Jess repeated her argument yet again. “Jess, I can’t keep going over the same ground with you. You’re both important to me and I think it is possible to have a brother and a girlfriend. Lots of people have both.”

  
Pacing back and forth next to the Impala, Sam struggled to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “Really baby, I love you, but I can’t continue this conversation, its going nowhere and we’ve got an early start tomorrow. I’ll call you after we find out whether or not it’s our friend out in the desert. Sleep well, baby, I love you.”

  
Sam closed his eyes and put his head down on the roof of the car. He hated lying to Jess, but he also knew she’d never accept Dean if she knew the truth about what they were doing out here in the desert. He did love her and she had helped him get past most of the guilt he felt at leaving Dean behind but she was being unreasonable.

  
She was a year ahead of him and studying nursing when they met midway through his sophomore year and started hanging out as friends. When she started spending more and more time at the library while he was working, he finally asked her out. Jess was nice, easy to talk to, and she knew how to listen. Sam found himself telling her most of the truth about his upbringing. Not the hunter crap and certainly not his feelings for his brother, but he did tell her that Dean had been there every step of the way for him when he was growing up and that he was the most important role model he had ever had.

  
It cut him deeply every time she brought up the fact that Dean hadn’t tried to make contact with him. She used that fact almost like a goad to prick him with every time she thought he was missing his brother more than she felt he should. He certainly couldn’t tell her that the real reason he hadn’t been able to bring himself to call Dean was that he was attracted to him; that the thing that scared him most at this point in his life was his brother finding out that he lusted after him and had used images of him as masturbatory fantasies since he was old enough to know what to do. That the thought of seeing the disgust and even worse, pity in his brother’s eyes if he found out had been enough to keep Sam from ever picking up the phone while he was gone. That he was afraid if he heard his brother’s voice he’d break and confess everything. No, there was no way he could share any of this with Jess, she’d never understand and he’d end up losing her as well and he just couldn’t deal with another loss.

  
He felt the temperature drop at least twenty degrees as he turned to head back to their room. Looking around the parking lot he didn’t see anything out of place but the temperature continued to drop. Sam rushed back to the room, pushed through the door and called out to his brother. “Dean, get the salt guns. The bastard’s here. The temperature outside dropped about 30 degrees in the last few minutes.”

  
The two brothers stood back to back in the center of their room, waiting for their father to make an appearance. The temperature continued to drop and soon they could see their breath as they waited for his spirit to materialize. The lights flickered on and off and the clock radio at the bedside hissed with static. Both men were hyper alert and ready to shoot at the slightest disturbance. Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over. The temperature returned to normal and the lights gave off a steady glow. There was condensation on the windows from the extreme change of temperature and as the boys were beginning to start to relax words appeared on the window, WHAT IS WRONG WITH U 2.

  
The boys searched the room checking for any other signs of physical manifestation but found nothing beyond the message. Sam took a picture with his phone so they’d have some kind of record. He wasn’t sure why they’d need it, but it felt right.

  
Dean wiped the words from the window. “He seems to be getting stronger, or maybe he’s been haunting us in small doses to keep us off guard. This latest incident required a fuck ton of juice and I wonder where the hell he’s getting that kind of energy.”

  
“Yeah, that is a little strange considering he’s a young spirit who hasn’t had years to feed on people’s fears in order to charge up his battery.” Sam opened his laptop and checked to see if he could pick up a wireless signal he could poach. “Gotcha! That café in the parking lot has free wifi. Good choice of fleabag hotel, Dean.”

  
“Uh, thanks I guess. What are you looking for?” Dean moved so he could look at the screen over Sam’s shoulder.

  
Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, Sam took a deep breath. He loved the way his brother smelled, it reminded him of home and never failed to make him feel safe and loved. Dean had been full of hugs for his baby brother when Sam was small and he’d missed them desperately as he’d gotten too big to need physical comforting. He’d lost count of the number of nights he pretended to be scared, or to be more scared than he really was, just so Dean would hold him until he fell asleep. Looking back and up at Dean’s face, Sam almost gave in to the urge to run his hands across his cheekbones and along his jaw.

  
“Hey, space cadet! I asked what you’re looking for?” Dean gave his brother a playful shove as he spoke.

  
“I’m not entirely sure but I’ve got a ghost of an idea. See what I did there?” Sam smirked and shoved Dean back a couple of inches to give himself a little more breathing room and to keep Dean from noticing that he had started to get hard while he was breathing on his neck and ear.

  
“Yeah, I see. Keep your day job cuz that kind of sucked,” Dean was laughing despite his words. “I’m gonna hit the shower while you do your nerdy best to find whatever it is you’re looking for.” He walked over the far bed that held the clothes they’d picked up earlier and sorted through the shirts trying to decide which one he liked best, hoping Sam didn’t notice him actually paying attention to his choices. He pulled his dirty shirts over his head in preparation for the shower and was stopped cold when Sam called his name.

  
“Dean! What the hell is all over your back? Shit, dude, you didn’t tell me you’d been hurt there as well.” Sam moved behind his brother to get a closer look at the marks that covered most of his exposed skin. He felt his brother shiver and heard him gasp softly as he gently ran his hand over his back. “These aren’t new. Fuck, Dean, how long have you had these scars and who did this to you? Wait, I’m not sure I really want to know.” Sam kept lightly rubbing at the skin on Dean’s back and it was all Dean could do to not moan. “No, I think I need to know. What did he do and when?”

  
Dean was torn between wanting the caress, and that was the only name for it, to go on forever and needing to gain control of his body and his emotions. He turned so he was facing Sam and pushed him gently to the other bed so he could sit down and so Dean could breathe normally again.  
“Don’t worry Sammy, they’re pretty old,” he took a couple of deep breaths trying to forget the feel of Sam’s hands. “It’s been years since our dear loving father took his belt to my back. Once you got big enough that he had to think twice before hitting you, I started fighting back and made him reconsider taking his fucking belt off,” Dean saw Sam shaking his head. “Honestly, Sam, I can’t remember the last time and I kind of forgot they were there or I wouldn’t have let you see them.” Dean’s shoulders slumped as he put his forearms on his thighs and leaned forward to stare at the floor, unable to meet his baby brother’s eyes.

  
Sam ran both hands over his face and then through his hair thinking of what he could say that wouldn’t further upset his already distressed brother. “So when you started changing in the bathroom, it wasn’t just because you were shy? I gotta tell you, dude, I never really quite believed that line.” Sam had worried for years that Dean had somehow known of his attraction, obsession, with his brother’s body and was hiding from Sam’s stare. “I figured you just needed some ‘you’ time.” Sam made air quotes to emphasize his point.

  
“Yeah, it was pretty lame,” Dean laughed softly, his face still in his hands as he spoke. “I didn’t want you to worry or to say something that would set the king of assholes off. I figured I was big enough to take a few for the team.”

  
“Jesus, Dean, those are scars. That’s not taking one for the team, that’s practically torture. I knew he hit you, hell he hit me a few times, but fuck that jerk, I never knew he hit you hard enough to cut and draw blood. You should have told me Dean,” Sam reached out and put his hand on Dean’s arm. “I would’ve helped you. Jesus, I can’t believe I didn’t know.” Sam sat back shaking his head. “I can’t believe I was so fucking clueless. You must have thought I was such a self-centered asshole. I’m so fucking sorry Dean.” Sam’s voice cracked slightly with the effort needed to keep from crying.

  
It was Dean’s turn to reach out and try to comfort his brother. “No, Sammy, not at all. It was my decision to not involve you. I decided to not let you see the mess he made of my back. Yeah, you could have helped, but damn it, Sam, I couldn’t let you see what a depraved douche lord he was turning into. I wanted to let you hold on to your innocence a little longer and I wasn’t going to let our mother-fucker of a father take that from you like he did from me. That was never going to happen on my watch.” Dean stood and started walking to the bathroom. “I should have killed the asshole long before this.”

  
“Dean!” Sam waited until he’d stopped and turned slightly before continuing. “Thank you. I wish you hadn’t had to…., but thank you.” Sam continued to stare at the door long after it closed and the shower started, thinking about the sacrifices Dean had made for him, and loved him just a little more for it.


	10. X.

Fuck me, Dean thought as he let the shower spray hit his back. He hadn’t thought of the beatings or the scars on his back in years, certainly not since Sam left and even before that he’d just kept the habit of always changing in the bathroom. His brother was right to an extent, growing up sharing a small space did make finding privacy for a little self-love more than a little difficult. Add to that how beautiful you thought your brother was as he grew up and the too-close space felt smothering.

  
Sort of like now. He looked down at his aching erection and closed his eyes thinking again of Sam’s hands lightly tracing the scars on his back. His cock jerked on its own at the thought of those same hands touching him elsewhere. Taking himself in one soapy hand and using the other to brace himself against the shower wall, Dean began to rhythmically jack himself, imagining it was his brother’s hand working him. He fucked himself into his hand making sure he rolled his thumb over the sensitive tip on the upstroke, biting this lower lip to keep from moaning aloud as he neared orgasm. Wishing he were moaning into Sammy’s mouth and thinking of his sad smile and the concern that darkened his eyes as he’d thanked him pushed him over the edge. He came hard, shooting thick ropes of come all over his hand and the wall. Laying his forehead next to his hand on the tile he allowed his breathing and heart rate to gradually slow as he worked himself through the aftershocks. He finished his shower once his dick became oversensitive and too painful to continue touching.

  
In the other room, Sam searched through various websites trying to verify his hunch that John’s spirit was feeding off of the combined anger, and in Sam’s own case repressed sexual tension, the brothers were feeling in order to become stronger at a faster rate than normal. He was having trouble concentrating on the task at hand. His mind kept wandering to the scars that crisscrossed Dean’s back and how difficult it must have been to conceal his pain. He felt sick, even as his dick responded to the thought of his fingers tracing the scars, and the muscles underneath, that made up the breadth of his brother’s shoulders. He rubbed at his dick distractedly and imagined replacing his hands with his mouth and kissing those old wounds better, soothing them with his tongue as he pulled Dean closer and let his hands wander lower.

  
The bathroom door opened and Sam snapped his attention back to the screen in front of him and resituated himself in his chair to help disguise his half hard dick. He looked over at his brother and smiled, pleased by the shirt he’d picked to wear. It was a shade of green that Sam had known would highlight Dean’s incredible green eyes. He knew his brother didn’t pay any attention to his clothes but he figured if he ‘helped’ him pick out things he liked that he’d eventually get around to wearing them.

  
Dean pulled a couple of beers out the small fridge in their room, opened them and handed one to Sam as he sat at the table with him. “So, Sammy, find anything that could help us out tomorrow?” They raised the bottles in a silent toast and both took a long sip. Sam watched a drop of water make its way down Dean’s neck and nearly moaned out loud as it disappeared past the neckline of his shirt. “Sam, are you OK?”

  
No, he thought, no he wasn’t OK. He’d fallen for his brother for fuck’s sake. He struggled to keep his voice even as he answered, “Yeah, yeah of course I’m OK. Just putting the things I’ve found in order in my head.”

  
Dean knew the scars he’d seen had upset Sam but also knew that it was best for both of them to just move past it and thinking about the job had been ingrained in both of them from their earliest memories. “What’s that thing got to say about our vengeful fucktard of a spirit?”

  
Smiling at the use of ‘fucktard’ one of Dean’s favorite words, Sam sat back in his chair and started talking. “Earlier when we were talking, I wondered if there had ever been any instances of hauntings by young spirits where their strength was disproportionate to their age. I ran a couple of searches and came up with nothing. I then started to wonder if spirits could gain energy based on the number of their believers and the strength of the belief combined with any strong emotions they might be feeling, particularly during the manifestations.”

  
“You mean could they take on the properties of a tulpa?” Dean ran his tongue over his lips as he considered the possibility. Sam reached for his beer determined to not watch Dean too closely, the guy was killing him. John was right, he was demented and fucked up, too bad that didn’t make him stop wanting to claim his brother for his own.

  
“Exactly, and there are other instances of new spirits with almost unlimited energy. Those manifestations are almost always associated with large groups of people, very devout people, who share a common belief. Like the Fatima sightings and the miracles at Lourdes.” Sam continued to scroll the page he was reading from. “There are documented cases of mass hysteria going back centuries and no evidence to suggest that spirits, vengeful or otherwise aren’t a form of tulpa.

  
In our case, there are certainly an abnormally large number of unresolved issues between Mom’s murder and our own experiences growing up with the….fucktard as a father.” Sam looked over through his bangs to his brother and saw him smile at his use of his favorite made up word. “The fact that you did him in has got to add a shit load of extra angst and emotion into the pot. So add it all up and we’ve probably stumbled on the perfect recipe for a tulpa driven vengeful spirit.”

  
Sam finished his beer, got up and grabbed two more. He didn’t need to ask if Dean was ready and set the fresh bottle down as he resumed his seat. His brother’s very green eyes, ‘yeah’ he thought, ‘that was the perfect choice’, were focused at some point far away and he didn’t even acknowledge the new bottle.

  
Dean nodded absently. He was deep inside his own head thinking that his pornographic thoughts about his little brother were certainly ramping up the emotional factor in their current situation. He knew that John, or at least his spiritual residue, was aware of his obsession with Sam. Hell, he’d called him out on it that morning. He mentally kicked himself for getting Sammy involved once again with their ginormous fucking loser of a parent, even in the guise of a sociopathic spirit.

  
“Good work….I think you’re definitely onto something.” Retreating back into his head, he mulled over the information Sam had presented, trying to decide whether or not just salting and burning the bones would be enough. He suspected that they’d have to clear their minds of their combined emotional baggage before heading out to the possible dump site.

  
“So I’m thinking that since we are part of the battery generating the energy that the fucked up bastard spirit is using to haunt us, we’ve somehow got to….I don’t know, maybe not resolve our issues, but at the very least make peace with them or risk giving him enough juice to manifest enough to hurt us. Do you see any problems with any of this?” Dean grabbed his new beer and wondered when it had appeared but appreciated it anyway. He watched his younger brother pick at a loose piece of laminate on the tabletop as he considered Dean’s words.

  
“Yeah….no, I don’t know,” Sam continued picking at the table top, deliberately not looking at his brother. “I mean, it makes sense and on the surface seems simple, but there are a lot of years of repressed anger, loneliness and sadness in both of us. Not to mention…well, not mentioning anything else that might be lurking in our…I mean anyone’s minds.”

  
‘Well…shit, Sam thought. ‘Put it all on the table or possibly get us killed. It’s a fucking Solomon’s choice.’ He got up and paced the small space working through various conversation starters in his head.

  
Dean meanwhile was picking at the label on his bottle and having an equally frustrating conversation with himself, ‘How in the hell do you tell your brother, of all damned people, your brother, the same brother who has a fucking girlfriend, that you’ve loved him for years and would do him in a heartbeat. Yeah, that’d fix the situation, shit.’ Dean watched Sam stalking the room like a caged animal and made up his mind. He’d get them both completely shit faced drunk and mumble it to Sam as he passed out. ‘Ha, he thought, ‘off my chest and no kick back from my demented confession, perfect!’


	11. XI.

The bar where they ended up was small and typical for the off the beaten path small towns they had stayed in throughout their childhood. It was Saturday and it was the only game in town so the place was doing a pretty good business. Dean was pleased to note they had a couple of pool tables and figured he could make a few bucks while getting Sammy drunk enough to not remember the evening. They managed to find a small table in the back and ordered shots and beers from the waitress. She tried flirting a bit when she brought their drinks but neither of them paid her much interest.

  
Their first drinks went down fairly quickly as they traded memories of hunts from the past and trouble they’d managed to find as kids. The memories they relived were the good ones, the ones that made them laugh. Several drinks into the evening Dean put up some cash to play the winner of one of the ongoing games.

  
“You think you can beat him?” Sam asked as he watched the guy who seemed to be cleaning up that night.

  
Dean looked over at the table and laughed, “The guy’s a fucking joke Sam, he knows about two good tricks and the only reason he’s been winning is that the other guys suck worse. It’ll be a piece of cake, but I’ve gotta lose a couple to him first and that’s gonna be a bitch.” Dean pushed away from the table and sauntered over to the rack to choose a cue. Sam watched him walk away wishing he could just grab that perfect ass, draw him in and nibble on his lower lip. Knowing that thinking along those lines wasn’t going to help their current predicament, Sam ordered another round of for both of them and then texted Jess to let her know he was OK despite their earlier call.

  
Sipping at his beer Sam watched his brother work the game. They’d both gotten really good at hustling pool for extra cash, John wouldn’t have let them be anything but the best and Dean excelled at the art of the con. Half the time people walked away from the hustle happy that Dean had spent time with them and never gave a second thought to the few hundred bucks they dropped. Sam knew how easy it was to be charmed by Dean’s easy familiarity, his laid back way of speaking, the green eyes and the quick smile.

  
Feeling a sharp chill, Sam looked around the bar and again saw the brief flash of light just outside his line of vision. Fuck, he thought, he was here, just hanging around the periphery of the place, picking up whatever energy was available in the dive bar and flashing just enough to let Sam know that he was watching and that he knew what Sam wanted.

  
The waitress was back and Sam ordered them each another round indicating she should bring Dean’s to the pool table. When she returned with his order she spent a couple of minutes checking out the temperature of the water but realized that the handsome young stranger had eyes for no one in the room but his friend playing pool and walked away disappointed.

“You fucking disgust me! Looking at your brother that way, it’s all kinds of fucked up. I really thought I had fucking beaten those insane, unnatural urges out of your fucking hide years ago.” The foul words were a whisper in Sam’s ear and he knew without looking around that he wouldn’t see anything. He tossed his shot back and acted like he hadn’t heard him speaking. “I know you can hear me bitch, I can see your thoughts, boy, and they sicken me. Know that if I can, I’m gonna fucking take him away from you, so that you can feel the fucking pain I did when your mother was killed. The worst day of my life was the day my Mary died and you lived. What a fucking waste. I’ll fucking see to it that you know just how hard it is to live with that kind of fucking loneliness, you fucking cunt.”

  
Dean glanced over at his brother, making sure he was keeping up with the drinking and saw him staring straight ahead with his jaw locked, grinding his teeth. ‘Shit’, he thought, wondering where the asshole was since he didn’t see or feel anything. He was nearly done with the game and had just been playing with the kid, letting him feel like he had half a chance so he went ahead and cleared the table on his next turn. Scooping up the money he hurried back to their table and Sam.

  
“Hey, you OK? Someone bothering you?” He sat, noticing Sam’s hand gripping his bottle as if he were going to crush it. Dean lowered his voice, “Is he here? What’s that fucker saying that’s got you so uptight? You know he’s a shit and he’ll lie just to get at you.” He was sure his father had been treating Sam to all kinds of stories about Dean and his near obsession with his brother. “Come on, Sammy; let’s get out here, huh? I didn’t make any friends over at the pool table and it might be a good time to take off.”

  
Sam drained his beer and stood without saying a word. Throwing some money on the table as a tip, Dean followed him out to the parking lot. “Hold up a minute Sam. I’m gonna get a bottle to take back with us.”

  
Climbing into the Impala Sam tried to forget the cruel words his father’s shade had whispered to him. He’d always known John could barely tolerate his existence and that if he could’ve, he would have left him behind on one of the many hunts where he’d struggled to keep up. If it weren’t for Dean, Sam would have never made it through his childhood but he didn’t realize the depth of the prick’s hatred for him. If anything happened to Dean, no, he couldn’t think that way, wouldn’t think that way.

  
“He come back?” Dean eased into the driver’s seat while Sam shook his head no. The only good thing their old man had ever done for him after handing him the infant Sam, was give him his baby on his 18th birthday, he thought as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to their temporary quarters. Glancing in the rearview mirror, a habit mostly, to make sure they weren’t being followed by a sore loser, his eyes met John’s and he nearly put the car into a spin as he jerked around to look in the back seat which was empty.

  
Sam looked over at him with his eyebrows raised in a silent question. The car straightened herself out and Dean said, “Let’s get back and start throwing out the shit the asshole left behind.”


	12. XII.

“Sammy, I don’t know what the bastard said to you back there, but know that he’ll lie and use anything he can to generate the intense feelings he feeds on.” They’d been back for about a half hour and Sam was still as tight as a drum and hadn’t said more than a few words. They’d both had a couple more shots and Sam should have been relaxing by now. Dean decided his original plan wasn’t going to work since at this rate he’d be trashed long before Sam, so he thought he’d go ahead and just lay it out for his brother, the whole ugly truth. At least that way Sam would direct his anger at him and stop feeding John’s shade. Besides, he was pretty well healed and he could handle another beating if it helped Sam get rid of his rage.

  
Dean tossed back the liquid in his glass, placed his folded hands on the table and took a deep breath, “Sam, Sammy… I’ve got something I have to….no need to tell you and you’re not going to like it, but please…..please just hear me out before you go off. Once I’ve said everything I have to say you can do or say whatever you need to, please just listen for now.”

  
“No Dean,” Sam said in a quiet voice as he looked down at the floor and shifted in his seat as if it had suddenly become hot. “Let me…I’ve…shit, can I….” Sam tried to look at his brother but couldn’t and focused instead on his hands. “Fuck, I...I…I’ve been holding on to a secret for years…” he paused knowing he needed to go on and wishing he didn’t have to, “and I think…I mean I’m sure….that’s what Dad…John is using against us. It’s what he’s been using to get to me.” Sam, still looking down, pressed his lips together and blinked back the tears he could feel starting form.

  
Dean moved his chair closer to Sam and put a hand on his shoulder, “I don’t know what it is and I don’t care, whatever you’ve kept secret, I’m sure you had your reasons. No, Sam…. the bastard’s drawing strength from me, I’ve got……got….secrets…..terrible secrets.”

  
John Winchester’s shade materialized next to his sons, flickering for about 10 seconds as his laughter filled the room. “What a couple of pussies! I swear you two have more fucking hormonal mood shifts than a fucking convent full of frustrated nuns. Come on Sammy tell your big brother who you think of while you jerk off, it’s not like he hasn’t been doing the same thing.” Sam turned crimson and Dean hung his head hearing this ass of a ghost shaming him for his fantasies. Both boys were so focused on their own shame that they barely processed what John had said about the other one. Cruel laughter filled the room again. “And Sammy, I will fucking take him from you, neither of you were ever a match for me when I was alive and you have less than a fucking snowball’s chance in fucking hell to beat me now. I own you boys and I’ll never let you forget it. What the hell is wrong with you two anyway?”

  
The heaviness left the room and took the chill of the apparition with it. Both boys sat in silence, mulling over his hateful words, afraid to speak and risk offending the other. Dean reached for the bottle and poured them each a heavy shot of whiskey and handed one of the glasses to his brother who accepted it with a shaking hand. “So, we need to talk, Sammy.”

  
“Dean, did you….didn’t you ever wonder why I never tried to contact you after I left?” Sam sipped at the whiskey in his glass and finally risked at look at his brother. “I waited that night and when you didn’t follow me out, I figured you were as tired of dragging my ass around as he was. You were my…my…my everything for the longest time Dean and once I finally walked away I promised myself I’d never suck you down into my sickness. So I didn’t call. I wanted to so many times, but I knew if I heard your voice, I’d break, tell you the truth….and….and you’d hate me too.”

  
Sam’s voice trailed off into a whisper and he finished the whiskey in his glass and got up and got each of them a beer. “We probably should have bought more beer too. This is gonna be a long night.” Sam paused and looked at Dean who was turning his glass in his hands and watching the golden brown liquid swirl in the center of the glass. Not looking at Sam, but not recoiling in horror either - yet. “I was afraid to tell you….,” Sam drew a deep breath before continuing, “to tell you that I, you know….love you. Not the whole brotherly love kind, but the - I’m so attracted to you that I can barely think of anything or anyone else kind.” Sam started to reach out to his brother but dropped his hand to the table as he realized what he was doing. “I know it’s all kinds of sick and fucked up and…..and I’ve tried….God, I’ve tried to move on but I always come back to you. There’s no one else I want more Dean, no one. I know how this sounds and I can be gone as soon as a pack up a few things. This….this….feeling is exactly why I never called you; I couldn’t stand the thought of having to leave you again.”

  
Dean drained his glass in one gulp, “Sam, don’t….you don’t have to go. I don’t ever want you to go.” Meeting his brother’s questioning gaze, he continued, “I don’t even know where to start…..you know that….fuck, I’ve never been as open as you are.” He chuckled softly before speaking again. “This is unbelievable, kind of like a dream where you know the end you hope for and are still surprised when you finally get it. Sammy…” Dean wanted to reach out but couldn’t handle it if his brother recoiled. “I….fuck me, I feel the same way. I’ve wanted you for so long and I don’t really give a fuck if that’s not considered proper. I don’t care what other people have decided is right, wrong, sick or normal. I….I just…I want to be with you.”

  
“Shit, Sam, when I saw you with Jess at Stanford I was so happy for you. I was devastated, but really happy that you’d gotten the normal life you’d always wanted and I promised myself I’d keep the asshole from your doorstep forever. I promised that I’d do whatever it took to make sure you were happy and that you got to keep what you’d found.”

  
They both sat for a couple of minutes replaying the words they’d heard as well as those they’d spoken. Sighing, Dean reached out and lowered Sam’s chin slightly so he could look into his eyes, brushing his long bangs to one side, “you need a haircut.”

  
Sam sat back in his chair and laughed. “You’re unbelievable and I love that you have the ability to make me laugh no matter what’s going on. You’ve always been able to do that.” He watched as the blush rose in his brother’s cheeks making his freckles stand out in sharp relief, God how he loved those freckles. Moving slowly so he didn’t spook the other man, Sam brushed his lips against Dean’s in a series of light kisses before sitting back in his chair again watching closely for the reaction. “I’ve wanted to do that for years.”


	13. XIII.

The boys sat in silence. Not uncomfortable silence, but the silence that comes from knowing you don’t have to speak to be understood, the kind that is as comfortable as an old sweater. The atmosphere had lightened and there were no more signs of John’s presence. They sipped at their whiskey, both of them grinning, kind of stupidly, at each other in stunned amazement. Sam was the first to speak as he stood and held his hand out to his brother.

  
“Come here,” he whispered as he pulled Dean to his feet and into an embrace. He nuzzled at his neck and inhaled the scent that was uniquely Dean. Sam was careful of Dean’s sore ribs as he squeezed him gently one more time before pulling back slightly and caressing his face with one hand while keeping the other at his waist. He could feel Dean’s dick pressing into the top of his thigh and he knew Dean had to be feeling his own hard length rubbing against his pelvis. Dean let out a moan that was almost a purr as Sam once again gently pressed his lips to his. Tracing his lower lip with his tongue made Dean press into him and wiggle just the tiniest bit making Sam smile.

  
“You OK?” Sam asked as he placed light kisses and little nips along Dean’s jaw to his ear before tugging gently on the ear with his teeth.  
Dean was running his hands along Sam’s arms and his back, cupping his ass as he pressed himself ever harder into his brother wondering if it were possible to climb into his skin. “Fuck, Sam yes, don’t stop….please,” he took quick shallow breaths between each word as his brother continued to kiss, lick and bite his ear and neck, slowly working his way back to his mouth.

  
Sam stopped and Dean whined just a little at the loss. Pulling him closer and putting his mouth back on Dean’s ear, Sam whispered, “We can go slowly. Just let me know if you want to stop, I’ve waited this long, we can take time to get used to each other.”

  
Dean pressed his lips to Sam’s in urgent need, with a kiss that demanded Sam open his lips and allow his tongue entrance. Dean sighed as his tongue slipped past Sam’s lips and teeth to slide across his tongue and lap at the roof of his mouth. Putting a hand on the back of Sam’s head Dean adjusted their angle so he could deepen the kiss and proceeded to explore the entirety of Sam’s mouth before pulling back and placing a light, chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth.

  
“You are amazing,” he watched his brother’s eyes darken to a deep brown. “I ‘preciate the thought, but I’m not sure I’ve got it in me to wait. I want you Sam, I want all of you.” Dean kissed Sam again, deeper and longer than the first one.

  
That drew a moan from Sam, he knew the timing was awful. “Dean,” Sam drew back and stopped his brother as he started to follow. “Hold up just for a minute.” Running his right hand through Dean’s short, spikey hair and still holding on to his waist with his left, Sam pressed a kiss on his forehead and let his head rest there before continuing. “I’ve imagined this so many times….I just….I want to take hours to love you that first time. There are some things that shouldn’t be rushed and this is one of them. I want to kiss, suck, lick and touch you all over until you beg me to finish you. I want you to know just how completely wanted you are. Tonight’s not gonna be that night. It’s late, we’ve both been mentally terrorized by the son of a bitch that we have to put down tomorrow and even after….everything we’ve said tonight I don’t think it’ll be easy.” Sam pulled his brother in for another hug and felt their dicks rub against each other. The pleasure/pain was exquisite.

  
Sam slipped his left hand under Dean’s shirt and began tracing circles on his back. “I’ll take care of you tonight Dean, I won’t leave you frustrated, I promise.” He started walking backwards toward the nearest bed pulling a very willing Dean with him. He sat Dean at the edge of the bed and went to his knees between his legs and worked at opening his buckle.

  
Dean stopped him, the blush returning to his cheeks. They were eye to eye with Sam on his knees but Dean was looking down at Sam’s hands. “I, um….well, um…I’ve never…you know with a guy.”

  
“I know,” Sam put his hand on Dean’s chin and tilted his head so they were eye to eye again. “It’s OK. I have and they were all about six feet tall with dark blonde hair and green eyes. None of them were you but I’m good if you want to stop. I want, no I need this to be good for you.” Sam kissed his brother gently at first then deepening the kiss as it became more urgent. Sam pulled back, raised an eyebrow and asked, “So, can I?”

  
Pulling his shirt off Dean smiled shyly, “Hell yes, I just needed to let you know that I was the virgin here.” He blushed madly again at the thought of Sam sucking his dick, as Sam went back to working his buckle free.

  
“God Dean, you make me so hot when you blush, very virginal,” Sam laughed softly at that thought, “and I promise I’ll make it good for you every time.” Sam had Dean stand up so he could work his jeans and briefs off his hips. His brother was beautiful. His cock wasn’t as long as his but it was thick and it had been leaking pre-come so the head was shiny and just begging to be licked. It was perfect, he was perfect. Sam licked his lips as he pushed Dean’s legs a little further apart and ran his hands along the inside of his thighs. “Just relax Dean, I’ve got this.” He pushed his brother gently back so he was lying on his back with his feet on the floor.

  
Dean nearly came when Sam bent his head and his hair brushed against his throbbing erection. He let out a sound somewhere between a whine and a moan as Sam began kissing up one thigh and down the other, stopping occasionally to suck at the skin and then soothe it with his tongue. Dean didn’t think he was going to make it. Sam finally wrapped his hand around his cock and slowly traced the vein on the underside with this tongue, swirling it around the head and collecting the pre-come that had collected there. “God, Sammy, shit….please.”

  
Sam smiled at the sight of his brother coming undone by his attentions to his cock and upped the game by taking as much of him into his mouth as he could, wrapping his tongue around him as he pulled back gently while keeping one hand wrapped around the base. He heard his brother trying to speak and just making sounds as he moved his mouth up and down his hard cock, paying special attention the very sensitive head. Dean had one hand wrapped in his hair, but wasn’t pushing, just making contact. Sam let go of his dick, moved his mouth lower and took each of his heavy balls into his mouth making sure they received the same attention his cock had. While he was working on his balls, he moved his hand between his brother’s legs and lightly ran his fingertips over his puckered rosebud asshole. Still holding the base of his dick and controlling his ability to come, Sam smiled, dimples flashing, at the rising frustration on his brother’s face. He knew he couldn’t tease him much longer, but damn, he was so, so beautiful, so wanton that Sam wanted to look at him like this forever.

  
“Fuck, Sam, please,” Dean managed to mumble as his brother continued to take his time, teasing him with his hands, teeth, tongue and breath. It was easily the best blow job he’d ever had, he never knew his brother was so talented, but even those thoughts disappeared as he felt Sam’s fingers teasing at his asshole again. Surprised at how good it felt and how comfortable he was with his brother touching him everywhere, Dean threw back his head and just surrendered to the feelings that Sam was eliciting from him. He knew he was no longer making any kind of sense and didn’t care as long as Sam didn’t stop.

  
Taking pity on his brother who was beyond wound up and ready to come with the slightest encouragement, Sam took him once again into his mouth and worked him in deeper and deeper until he had the majority of him in his mouth. He worked the cock in and out of his mouth moving faster, sucking hard and taking him deeper with each stroke. Dean’s hand was still twisted in his hair and the other had a vise-like grip on the ugly bedspread. Sam thought he heard him say he was going to come and eased the pressure his hand had been keeping on the base of his cock so that he could. Sam sucked him in deeply a couple more times before he finally came. Spurts of thick, salty liquid hit the back of Sam’s throat and he swallowed it all as his brother wound down.

  
Letting the softening length of Dean’s cock slip from his mouth Sam helped him to a sitting position and kissed him deeply letting him taste himself in Sam’s mouth as he explored it with his tongue while gently stroking his upper arms before drawing him back into an embrace. “You are amazing,” Sam mouthed against Dean’s neck and held him even tighter.

  
“Fuck, Sam. I…I mean, fuck, that was….fuck….I….” Dean cradled Sam’s head against his shoulder not sure he’d ever be able to give Sam that much pleasure but more than willing to try. He could still feel Sam’s erection pressing into his leg and his brother was rubbing it against him obviously trying to get some relief and Dean shifted slightly to allow for more contact.

  
Sam drew back slightly in order to look at his brother. “I told you we could go slowly and I meant it. I don’t need anything from you tonight other than what you’ve already given me. Hearing that you…. I know better than anyone that it was easy to admit that to me and it makes me want you that much more.”

  
“No, Sam, I want to get you off.” Dean moved off the bed so he was kneeling in front of Sam once again having to look up to meet his eyes.  
Sam pressed kisses along Dean’s cheekbones trying to cover all his freckles. “Let’s start more slowly.” The trail of kisses continued down Dean’s neck, “Help me jack off tonight, kiss me, cuddle me and whisper sweet nothings to me and then please, please Dean, sleep with your arms wrapped around me. I’ve missed that so much.”

  
Sam helped him up off of his knees and turned to turn down the bed to give Dean a few seconds to decide if he even wanted to go that far. Once the covers had been peeled back he turned to his brother and began to unbutton his outer shirt. Dean gently pushed his hands away and took over for him. “Yeah, Sammy, I’d like that. I….want….need to.” His words trailed off as he finished with the shirt and eased if off his brother’s shoulders. When had they gotten so big?

  
Sam pulled his t-shirt off and got his belt unbuckled while his brother was still staring at the sight of his body like he’d never seen it before. God, he was sweet and still kind of innocent despite the life they’d been forced to lead. He’d spend the rest his life making him feel important and worthy of the love he felt for him. Dean’s hands joined his as he eased his jeans and briefs off and let them fall to the side of the bed. Sam lay down on his back, his erection standing proudly at attention and weeping large tears of pre-come. He couldn’t wait to feel his brother’s hand wrap around him.

  
Dean took the hand that Sam had extended, tore his eyes off his brother’s cock and sought his eyes. His brother was well-hung indeed and he was impressed and a little unsure despite his earlier words, it was his brother for fuck’s sake, but knew he could do this. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what to do. Sam helped him into bed and he lay on his side next to him and turned his head so he could capture his mouth once again for a deep kiss.

  
Sam guided his brother’s hand down to his leaking cock and encouraged him to take hold of it. Once Dean had Sam’s cock in his hand, instinct took over and he began to jack him, collecting the pre-come on the upstroke by swirling around the head with his thumb and working his way back down. He worked slowly at first while kissing and gently biting Sam’s neck, jaw and shoulder. Sam’s hand joined his and squeezed a bit harder and began moving his hand faster. He could feel Sam thrusting up trying to get more friction.

  
“That’s it,” Sam moaned out, “perfect. Fuck, Dean, your hand feels so good on me, don’t stop, god please don’t stop. That’s,” Sam broke off his words turning into moans and inarticulate sounds as Dean pushed Sam’s hand away, sped up and applied a little more pressure. “Fuck yes, Dean, ooohhh god that’s it, I’m so close, don’t stop now, I’m almost,” again Sam lost the ability to form words as Dean added a twisting motion on the down stroke and sped up again.

  
Pleased with the reaction he was getting from his brother Dean added some of the tricks he’d taught himself over the years and was rewarded by the sight of Sam writhing in pleasure and he knew he was just about there. “Come on Sammy, I know you you’re almost there, let go. I want to see you come, I want to see you come just for me.”

  
Dean’s gravelly voice was all Sam needed to reach the peak and go over. His cock pumped out thick spurts of white semen that ran down Dean’s hand and splashed his belly. Dean continued to work him as he came down off the apex and almost instinctively knew when his touch became too much. Sam opened his eyes and gazed at his brother who surprised him by collecting the come off his stomach and licking it from his hand. “Jesus Christ, Dean that is so hot. If I could I’d come again. Come here.”

  
Sam took Dean’s hand and finished the clean-up job and pulled him in for yet another kiss. This one was sweetly gentle, full of love and mutual satisfaction. After he reached over and turned out the light, Sam pulled his brother in to him and felt him wrap his leg around one of his and his arm around his chest. Not exactly how they slept as kids, but so, so much better. He very quietly whispered, “I love you,” as Dean was drifting off to sleep.


	14. XIV.

It was early when Sam opened his eyes and looked down at the top of his brother’s head which was still resting on his shoulder. His thoughts returned to the even earlier morning love making they’d shared and he smiled, pleased to be able to show Dean how very much he loved and wanted him. His already half hard cock began to stir at his thoughts and Sam pushed them aside. They’d have to focus today on finding, salting and burning John’s remains if they were ever going to be able to move on without his hatred shadowing every move they made. He carefully began to untangle himself from Dean’s embrace, trying very hard to not disturb his sleep but failed.

  
“What time is it?” Dean asked his voice husky with sleep.

  
Sam kissed him gently on the mouth, “It’s still really early and I’m going to shower. You fall back to sleep if you can and I’ll go out and pick us up coffee and breakfast.”

  
Receiving a grunt in acknowledgement Sam went about getting ready for the day. He picked up his phone as he left the room and checked the display. There were several text messages and a missed call from Jess already and it was not yet 7:00 am. He cursed silently, not wanting to deal with her drama, but feeling very guilty that he’d cheated on her….with his brother no less. He knew the conversation he owed her was going to be ugly and decided to just text her in return and shut off his phone. Once they’d dealt with the asshole and put an end to his mental games he could concentrate on breaking up with her and letting her move on with her life.

  
Dean heard the door close and reached over to grab his brother’s pillow. He pulled it to his chest and buried his face in it, Sam’s scent bringing back memories of the night that had passed. He was ridiculously happy. This was like a dream come true, if you left out the nightmare apparition and taunting of the fucktard. Hopefully luck would be on their side today and whatever dead thing the vultures were feasting on would be the asshole and they’d get this wound up sometime before dark. With that thought effectively deflating his half hard dick, Dean headed to the bathroom to clean up and be ready to go when Sam got back.

  
“Do you really think I’m going to let you two fucking little girls get me that easily?” John’s eyes glared at him from the mirror. The effect made creepier by the fact that the eyes weren’t accompanied by his head or body. “I’m going to fight you two fucking sicko losers every step of the way. If you fucking think for one damn minute that, that sick perversion you two fucking fairies admitted to last night is gonna change a god damned thing, then you two are the stupidest fucking morons on the planet. You’re on my list boy and I will fucking take you away from that enormous cunt of a yeti you call brother just to watch the little girl self-destruct. Brother-fucker thinks he can fucking judge me….”

  
John’s eyes disappeared as Dean drove his fist into the mirror causing a spider web of cracks to mar the surface. “I’m not gonna die you mother-fucking piece of shit. You can do your worst and I will fucking beat you back down and salt and burn your god damned bones.”  Breathing hard from the confrontation as well as from the new pain in his hand, Dean struggled to get dressed with one hand wrapped in a towel from the bathroom and was working one-handed to get his shirt pulled down when Sam returned with breakfast.

  
“Dean!” Sam dropped the food and coffee on the small table as he rushed to his brother’s side. “What happened? Are you OK?” He put his arms around him and drew him into a brief hug before stepping back to take a look at his injured hand. “What the hell did you do?”

  
“I’m all right, Sammy. Our fucking reject of a parent paid me a visit in the mirror and I lost my head. I’m cut up, but none are serious.” Sam removed the towel as Dean spoke checking his fingers and knuckles for any signs of serious bleeding or lacerated tendons.

  
Rewrapping the hand Sam pulled his brother into another hug. “I just can’t lose you Dean now that I’ve found you and he….”

  
“I know what he threatened you with, Sammy, and it’s not gonna work. I told the bastard that I’m not gonna die anytime soon. I told him to do his best and that I’d still beat the living shit out of him because I’ve now got a reason to keep living and it’ll take more than his pathetic shade to do me in.” Dean, hesitated before kissing Sam lightly on the lips and moving over to the table. “Would you mind grabbing the first aid kit from the car? I think I’ll need to wrap this. Hey, what did you bring for breakfast? I’m starving.”

  
Chuckling at Dean’s one track mind when it came to food, Sam headed out to the trunk to get the supplies needed to wrap his hand. He turned his phone on while outside and noticed he had received another text from Jess which read _are you ever coming home?_ Sam slammed the trunk thinking it had only been three days. Fuck it wasn’t like they’d been gone all that long, right? He’d told her he’d be gone four or five days more than once. He sighed as he headed back inside, his anger tempered somewhat by thoughts of how he’d spent the last night.

  
It wasn’t too long before they’d packed up their things and were headed west, back to where Sam had spotted the vultures. He was watching the horizon and checking through the binoculars occasionally so that they didn’t pass them. Despite the grisly nature of their errand both men were in good spirits, singing along to the songs they’d grown up with and determined to not give John any extra energy if they could avoid it.

  
“Pull over up there,” Sam pointed to a wider part of the road’s shoulder. “I want to check something.” They both stepped out of the car. Sam had their map and handed the field glasses to his brother. “I thought I saw them off there to the left, double check for me, please. I want to check our GPS coordinates against the map. I think we can get closer if we take a left at the next road.”

  
Dean raised the glasses and looked off into the distance trying to see if he could spot the birds again while Sam figured out exactly where they’d stopped. The empty stretch of road they were on reminded him of so many of the hunting trips they’d been on in the past. He knew he was jumping way ahead of himself, but he couldn’t help wonder as he looked over at his brother, if there was any possibility of Sam joining him in the family business or if once they finished this job he’d want to go back and finish up his law degree at Stanford. Dean then focused on Sam’s girlfriend Jess and wondered just how that would play out. ‘No!’ he thought to himself. ‘I fucking can’t go down that road before taking care of the mother-fucker.’

  
Sam interrupted his train of thought, “Hey, did you see anything? Was I right? Are we on the right track?” He walked around to the driver’s side of the car, took the glasses from Dean and held them up to his eyes. “I’m fairly certain those are the vultures we spotted before.”

  
“How many bunches of vultures could there be in the area? I say we go check it out. We’ll need to get a little closer though my baby’s not made for off-roading.” Dean ran his hand along the car’s fender.

  
Draping a long arm around Dean’s shoulders, Sam pulled him a little closer, feeling a tingle in his belly. “Yeah, I get that, baby.” Sam smiled, flashing his dimples as he used his brother’s favorite nickname for the Impala. “If we head south at the next intersection, I think we can get nearer to whatever’s over there that’s keeping the vultures fed. Depending on how far south we need to go, there may be another road we can take east if necessary.”


	15. XV.

They had passed onto reservation land about an hour or so after their last stop and both hoped like hell they weren’t noticed, especially since they’d be setting a fire, a controlled burn sure, but it probably wasn’t technically legal on reservation land. Fortunately, the reservation was huge and the marked towns further south and west of their current location. Dean coasted the Impala into a stop and off the single lane road a ways. She wouldn’t be out of sight, but she would be a little less noticeable than she would have been otherwise.

  
“Looks like we hike from here,” Dean reached into the backseat to grab their packs, wincing slightly at the pain in his ribs. He was feeling much better than he had when he showed up at Sam’s, but ribs were a total bitch to heal and he knew his would be bothering him for a few more weeks. He glanced over to his brother who once again had the field glasses trained on the sky. “What direction are we heading, Tonto?”

  
Sam struggled not to laugh at the lame attempt at humor as he replied, “Fuck, Dean, that’s not politically correct and I will NOT call you Kemosabe! I don’t care how pretty you smile at me.” Sam took his pack and made sure Dean had given him the heavier one pleased that he had and worried at the same time that it meant he was really hurting. “Dean, there’s some pain stuff in the first aid kit, why don’t you take a couple of those before we head out and maybe bring the bottle with.”

  
“Nah, Sammy, I’m OK. I don’t want to be fucked up when the asshole starts throwing shit at us to slow us down or stop us.”

  
“It’s non-prescription, it shouldn’t mess with your reflexes, but I get your point. I’ll grab the bottle so we have it if we need it later. It won’t add much weight to what I’m carrying.” Stuffing the bottle into his pack Sam slipped into the harness, moved closer to his brother and rubbed his shoulder lightly. “Listen, Dean I’m not going to let the fucker take you from me. I’m not losing you just as I’ve found you. I’ve got your back and I honestly don’t think he has a chance if we work together.”

  
The air temperature dropped and the wind picked up churning up a small whirlwind of debris. Dean raised an eyebrow in Sam’s direction. “I guess that’s his lame ‘fuck you boys’. You gotta do better than that you piece of shit. Go ahead throw everything you can at us before we reach your stinking corpse!” The wind hit about 40 mph sustained gusts and the whirlwind grew in size.

  
“Way to piss him off, Dean,” Sam had to raise his voice to be heard over the howling wind. “This will make our jobs soooooo much easier.”

  
“No, dude, this is part of my strategy. I guess I’ve been working alone too long, I should have explained as we were driving. I figured if we keep him pissed off and keep ourselves calm he’ll burn out his energy reserves faster than he can replenish them.”

  
“So that by the time we reach his dumpsite he’ll be worn down and less of a direct threat. I think this might give us the upper hand. Our job will be staying in control of our emotions.” The winds began to die down as Sam was speaking. Both boys knew that even the oldest, most vengeful spirits worked in energy bursts rather than sustained manifestations due to the energy required to keep the effect going for any length of time. “Then let’s head out, acting like his hissy fits don’t slow us down should help make him mad enough to continue to harass us and hopefully burn himself out.”

  
They had walked for approximately two hours, occasionally readjusting their direction when Sam called for a rest stop. He checked the sky, pleased to see that the giant birds were easily visible to the naked eye and didn’t appear to be too far off. They sat with their backs to a rock to rest as well as eat and drink something before they got any closer. As Dean had predicted, John had continued to harass them as they walked using wind, stones, cacti and his voice to goad them and try to slow them down.

  
“I think we’re doing pretty well ignoring…..him,” Sam said, passing a bottle of water to his brother. He watched as Dean put the bottle to his mouth and gulped down half the bottle. Shit! He thought, everything the man does is sexy he changed positions and tried very hard to ignore his dick and failing miserably as he watched a bead of sweat trickle down his brother’s neck. He wanted to capture it with his tongue and follow the trail back up his neck. “So, um….what’s the plan, how do you think we should approach this? I mean, we need to proceed on the assumption that the asshole’s remains are up ahead and he’s gonna get really nasty once we get closer. Agree?”

  
Dean finished his water and turned to look at his brother, HIS brother. He loved that thought and still couldn’t believe that Sam wanted HIM. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let their bastard of a father fuck it up at this point. Wiping his brow with the hem of his shirt and licking his lips, he considered their options.

  
All right, Sam thought, enough with the tongue already! He couldn’t tear his eyes away from his brother as he was lost in thought. Sam tried in vain to remember if he’d found every move of Dean’s as sensual prior to their mutual declarations. Dean’s every move seemed to be calculated to draw a response from him, but he knew in his heart that it was just Dean and that the man had no control over the effect he was having on him.

  
“You’re right, if that’s him up ahead he’s gonna throw everything he’s got at us and since he’s made a direct threat at me we should assume I’ll take the majority of the hits. He wants to unsettle you so you stop thinking logically and react emotionally. Knowing this, we can be prepared. Here’s how I think we should approach…..”


	16. XVI.

Dean smelled the rotting body long before he was close enough to determine whether or not it was their father. The vultures seemed unimpressed by his presence and continued to pick at their meal even as he drew within a few feet. He kicked at the huge birds without much effect and covered his mouth and nose with his hand as squatted next to the shredded body. The temperature dropped rapidly disturbing the vultures more than Dean’s presence and strong gusts of wind began to actually hurl the birds out of the sky and right at Dean.

  
“That’s right you fucker, I’ve found you.” Dean reached into the chest of the badly decomposed body and gagged as he fished around for the dog tags he knew their father still wore. He wasn’t going to screw up this salt and burn job. “Fuck, ugh, this is just, ugh….where the hell are your tags asshole?” The wind continued to gain speed and the birds which were effectively grounded and angry at the intrusion, started reaching their beaks toward Dean in an effort to threaten him away from their meal.

  
John’s laughter rang out as Dean tried to avoid the tearing beaks. “You know they will kill if they feel threatened.” The wind was strong enough now to begin lifting pieces of the body and hurl them around the small clearing. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? You don’t think I don’t know that the ginormous girl is hiding ready to rescue his fuck toy? You two babies are so fucking predictable it makes me ashamed to admit I taught you fucking everything you know.”

  
Still crouched by the body and searching for the tags, Dean, “Finally!” He pulled the gore slimed tags from the body cavity and wiped them clean on his jeans to check the name. “OK, asshole,” Dean kicked the remains as he stood, gagging again as his boot sunk into the rotted flesh that was left. It felt like the wind had reached the speed of an F1 or 2 tornado and he could barely keep his eyes open long enough to dodge the cacti, stones and vultures that were aimed at him. As he struggled to get his pack off a stronger gust knocked him back a couple of yards and he slammed in to a large saguaro cactus, the spines digging into his back and the impact driving the breath from his lungs. “That was weak you mother-fucker! If you think for a minute that will stop me, you’re out of your fucking mind!” Dean again fought the wind back to his pack and struggled to get it open as a large whirlwind began to form over the body. “No way you fucker, I’m not letting you spread your rotten corpse around so we can’t find all the pieces. It’s you that’s predictable. Sam!”

  
Sam darted in with a tarp in hand and threw himself on the body, trying desperately not to think of what was slipping and sliding under tarp. Dean dragged Sam’s pack into the clearing. It was loaded with every rock they could find between their water stop and the dump site. The wind was still at hurricane force levels but hadn’t picked up any additional strength. That said there were still rocks pelting both boys as the struggled to weigh down the body. Dean stood to step away to grab the salt, lighter fluid and lighters from his pack just as the spirit unleashed a 140 mph gust that took him off his feet and hurled him at least 20 yards into yet another cactus.

  
“Dean!” Sam started to get up to go after his brother.

  
“No, Sam, I’m fine you’ve got to stay and get that fucker burning. I’ll try to make my way back. He can’t have much more.” John’s laughter taunted them both as Dean pulled himself off the cactus spines and began crawling back toward his brother and Sam began dousing the tarp with lighter fluid soaked salt. With one final gust of wind John loosened the cactus that Dean had hit the first time and threw it directly at Dean. He couldn’t move fast enough and it caught him mid-body and pinned him to the ground.

  
“Nooooooo! You fucking bastard,” Sam screamed into the wind as he got the lighter to finally catch. Protecting the flame with his other hand, Sam crawled on his belly to the edge of the tarp and got it to catch fire. The flames spread rapidly and the tarp burned away quickly. The wind began to die as the flames started on the body underneath. Sam glanced at his brother pinned under the giant saguaro wanting to run to his side but kept on task as he grabbed the last couple of bottles of lighter fluid and added them to the fire. He followed up with another box of salt.

  
“Sam,” Dean called out weakly. The wind was gone and his voice finally carried to his brother. “The tags, I’ve got the tags.” Sam sprinted to his brother’s side.

  
“Where, Dean, where are they?”

  
“My right front pocket…..jeans.” Dean was bloodied again and effectively trapped under the heavy cactus. Sam had to work his hand around the spines and into his pocket. The tags were weighted down and he had to brace his foot against the old saguaro to get enough leverage to yank them free.

  
“Dean, Dean, talk to me.” Sam didn’t like how pale his brother’s face looked and was reluctant to turn away.

  
“Am OK, hurt, not dead. Told you I wasn’t gonna die. Burn them Sam….” Dean’s eyes closed. Sam sprinted back to the fire which was still burning well, glanced back at his brother and tossed the dog tags into the flames.

  
“Adios, mother-fucker, I told you, you couldn’t have him.” The fire flared up as the tags started to melt and Sam knew that they’d have no more trouble from their father.

  
“Dean!” Sam ran back to his brother. “Dean, can you hear me? Come on, just let me know you’re all right, please!” he pleaded as he ran his hands over Dean’s face, wiping away the blood from his new lacerations. “Please Dean, please?” One of the remaining vultures started waddling over to investigate the potential new meal and Sam kicked hard enough to break one of its wings. “Back off fucker, he’s not gonna die!”

  
Retreating to where they’d emptied their packs in preparation for the assault on John’s corpse, Sam considered the supplies they had left actually glad their prick of a father had taught them to plan for any circumstance and spotted the rope they’d dragged with them. He brought that along with some water and the ibuprofen, as well as the small collapsible shovel Dean had added to his pack at the last minute, back to where Dean was trapped and went to work. He spent 30 minutes fashioning a harness he could use to lever the cactus off his brother. Using another of the giant cacti for leverage, Sam passed the rope around it and then tied it around his waist. He was going to have the raise the cactus while simultaneously pulling Dean out from under it. He sent a prayer to all the gods and elementals he could think of and carefully began to work his brother free.  
It took twenty minutes of maneuvering the rope and the cactus while pulling Dean out by inches to finally free him. Sam collapsed beside his still unconscious brother and put his hand on his bloody chest to make sure he was breathing. Relieved to find that he was Sam checked his pulse, worried about shock since his breaths were rapid and shallow. “Come on, baby, wake up,” he spoke into Dean’s ear as he examined his head for cuts and/or bruising. He knew his ribs would be cracked again if not out-right broken and there were deep puncture wounds across his torso. Sam hoped like hell they hadn’t hit anything vital.

  
He very carefully moved his brother to the outcropping of rock where they’d left their supplies and wrapped his chest in both of his shirts to try to stop the bleeding as well as to provide warmth. He knew his brother’s chances were slim if he couldn’t get him some help soon. Shock was beginning to set in. He set out to find anything flammable that hadn’t been swept away by John’s tantrum. They needed a fire if they were going to make it through the night. It got really cold in the desert at night.


	17. XVII.

It was dark by the time Dean finally opened his eyes. He struggled to remember where he was and why he was lying on the ground. Sam had spooned around his back keeping him facing their small fire to try to keep him as warm as possible, and Dean felt his brother supporting his back. He twined his fingers with Sam’s and closed his eyes, reaching into his memory for what had brought them here.

  
Sam woke alerted by the change in Dean’s breathing. “Dean, hey how are you feeling?” He took his hand from Dean’s and ran it through his hair, his mouth near his ear. “Dean? You awake?”

  
“Hey Sammy, yeah, I guess I am, but I’m not sure where the hell we are or why. I hurt,” Dean winced as Sam adjusted their position so that he was sitting with Dean supported by his chest. “What happened, Sam?”

  
Gently cradling his injured brother Sam brought Dean up to speed on the events of the previous day. After making sure he drank some water and offering up a protein bar as dinner, Sam brought the conversation back to their current situation. “So, bottom line, I’m not sure if you’ve got injuries we can’t see and I don’t know how we’re gonna make it back to the car. I don’t want to spend another night out here, but we may not have much choice.”

  
“I’m good, Sam. Don’t worry about me, I’ll make it back out. This is nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” Dean glanced over at Sam to see if he was buying the crap he was selling and seeing that he wasn’t, he changed the subject. “So you got the bastard? He’s dust?”

  
“Jesus, Dean,” Sam shook his head and smiled at Dean’s bravado. “That fucking cactus crushed your chest, I’m not sure how you’re not dead, but am grateful as hell that you’re not. I’m not going to risk doing further damage if I don’t have to. I already moved you once and I think our best bet is to leave you here while I go get the car.” Dean started to protest and Sam cut him off, “I know she’s not made for it, but I can’t take a chance with you. The Impala we can rebuild if we have to, I can’t rebuild you.”

  
Sam pressed light kisses on Dean’s neck and ears as he cajoled him into accepting his plan. “I love you. I’d never forgive myself for handing the mother-fucker a victory if something happens to you on the hike out. I’ll collect as much flammable material as possible and leave you with your 9mm and one of the salt guns to scare off anything that might threaten you. I’ll run. Without the pack and without John’s delaying tactics I bet I can make it back in nearly half the time. Come on Dean, be realistic here.”

  
“I….I,” Dean adjusted himself slightly in Sam’s arms, everything hurt and he knew he would hold Sam back if he tried to walk out with him. “Sammy, go get help but go knowing that I’m happy Sam, really happy for the first time in…..I don’t even know…..so take the car and get help but I’m not afraid to die.”

  
“Dammit, Dean!” Sam was shaking and tears were beginning to leak from his eyes. “Do not give up I’ll be back before you know it.” Sam turned Dean’s face to his and kissed him deeply. “You promised me you wouldn’t die, don’t you dare break that promise!”

  
Dean looked into his brother’s eyes, “I love you Sammy,” and lapsed back into unconsciousness.

  
Sam held him and wept into his shoulder, gently rocking him until dawn broke and he could see well enough to get the fire stoked, collect extra flammable material and to try to make his brother as comfortable as possible before heading out. Just before he was ready to leave he woke his brother.

  
“Dean, wake up please,” he gently shook his shoulder, checking his heart rate at the same time. “Come on; wake up just for a couple of minutes.” The relief he felt when he was finally looking into those big green eyes was palpable.

  
“Hey. I thought I told you to get yourself out of here!” Dean managed a smirk despite feeling like he’d been caught in a buffalo stampede.

  
“Yeah, you’re not the boss of me! I’ll go when I’m ready. Right now I need you to take a couple of these,” he handed four ibuprofen tablets to Dean along with a bottle of water.

  
Swallowing the pain pills with about half the bottle of water, Dean looked over at Sam trying to avoid his ‘puppy dog’ eyes and failing miserably. “I’ll be fine. It’s gonna take more than a giant cactus to take me out.”

  
“That’s right, no one’s dying today,” Sam kissed his brother again before turning and heading back to the car.


	18. XVIII.

“No Jess, I’ve told you. I’m staying here until he’s ready to leave and if he can’t travel right away, I’m staying until he can.” Sam was pacing the hospital corridor outside of Dean’s room. “It’s not unreasonable,” he ran his hand through his hair and rolled his eyes. “He’s my brother, the only family I have left. I’ve told you this how many times now? I’m not leaving him injured and alone. Dammit Jess, he got hurt saving my ass.” Sam leaned against the wall and looked down at his feet wondering why she didn’t understand, it wasn’t like he’d told her about his new relationship. He was still keeping that a secret from her. He didn’t want to have to break up over the phone, he owed it to her to face her when he did, but he was beginning to wonder if she wouldn’t end up pushing him too hard before they had a chance to get back. “I’ve talked to my advisor and they’re going to work with me once I get back to get me caught up. No, Jess I’m not sacrificing everything for him. What part of ‘he saved my life’ is so hard to understand? I owe this to him.” Sam held the phone away from his ear and just stared at it shaking his head. “I’m done, Jess, I’ll see you when I get back. You do what you have to, I obviously can’t stop you. Goodbye, Jess.”

  
Well, he thought that could have gone better. Sam knew he was done with Jess and her drama, but had really hadn’t wanted it to end this way. Her threats of leaving if he didn’t come straight back home had just pushed him over the edge. Still feeling very guilty for not being upfront with her, Sam mentally kicked himself before heading back to Dean’s room. They been at the reservation hospital for almost twenty-four hours and Dean was still sleeping – he wouldn’t use the “c” word. The doctor’s assured him that while his injuries were serious, they weren’t fatal and that his body was just using all of its resources to start the healing process.

  
Taking his seat at the side of the bed and his brother’s hand in his, Sam wondered why it suddenly seemed so small. “Hey, Dean it’s well past time to wake up. Come on already,” he gently kissed his brother’s hand and went back to watching for any sign of him resurfacing.

  
Dean was awake, he’d come to when Sam was out in the hall on the phone. He’d been trying to figure out where he was and how he got there for the past few minutes. His eyelids felt so heavy he didn’t think he had the strength to open them. He hurt everywhere and his throat and mouth were so dry but knew he had to try harder. Sam was asking for him, he needed to get back to his brother. He squeezed the hand holding his.

  
“Dean! You’re awake? Open your eyes.”

  
A whisper was almost more than he could manage, “Sammy?” Dean tried to lick his lips but his mouth was so dry.

  
“Here,” Sam held a cup of water with a straw. “Little sips. Better?”

  
“A little, where are we?” He sipped again at the straw Sam held for him. “Dad?”

  
Sam got up and wet a washcloth and gently ran it over Dean’s face, “We’re at the reservation hospital, been here since yesterday.” He held the cup up and let Dean have a few more sips of water before continuing, “It took me a lot longer than I thought it would to make the car and get her back to where I’d left you. By the time I got there the reservation police had found you and had called for a helicopter to airlift here to the hospital. They did emergency surgery to stop the internal bleeding yesterday. The spines of the cactus punctured a lung, your liver and your spleen. You’d have never made it out alive if they hadn’t found you.” Sam cradled his brother’s face in his right hand and rubbed thumb along Dean’s cheekbone. He’d been so pale when they brought him out of surgery that Sam thought for sure he’d lose him after all.

  
“Do I look as good as I feel?” Dean smirked while nuzzling his face deeper into Sam’s hand. “I still hurt, but not as badly. Am I on something? I feel fuzzy.”

  
“You’ve been getting morphine regularly for the post op pain as well as for your newly cracked ribs and multiple cuts and bruises. They’re also pumping you full of antibiotics since you were exposed out in the desert with open wounds. I’ve got to let the nurse know you’re awake but before I do, here’s the cover story. I’m Marshall Greg Allman, you’re Marshall Ronnie VanZandt and we were searching for our protected witness. We tracked him to Las Flores and found the bloodied room. Our intelligence had him heading south that’s what we did, saw the smoke from the fire that burned the body and followed the trail to the cremated remains. We’ve been given some teeth found at the site so we can do a DNA analysis at our labs and determine if it was indeed our witness. Got it?”

  
“Right, I’m VanZandt, witness, burning…..how did I get beat up with…..a cactus?”

  
“Oh yeah, well some coyotes spotted the same fire we did and arrived at about the same time. We identified ourselves, they panicked and ploughed into the cactus with their truck toppling it on to you. Kind of lame, but it seems to be flying. The sheriff in Las Flores was right in assuming there had been issues with human trafficking in the area.” Sam still had Dean’s hand his and was tracing circles on the back of it with his thumb.

  
“I’m good, call the nurse and let’s see how soon I can get out of here.” Dean grimaced in pain as he tried to sit up. “Um, do I have a thing in my dick? I just tugged at something and it hurt like a bitch.”

  
Sam tried not to laugh, “Yeah VanZandt, it’s a catheter. Don’t mess with it.”

  
While Sam was getting the nurse Dean did an internal inventory and decided he would be good to go by the next day, providing they removed the catheter thing. He suspected he was being overly optimistic, but the longer they stayed the better chance their story had of developing holes.  
A pretty dark haired nurse entered the room followed by Sam, “Marshall Allman said you’d woken up. How are you feeling Marshall VanZandt?” She proceeded to check Dean’s vitals, not giving him much time to respond. “How’s that pain? I’ll be in shortly with your antibiotic and I can give you some more morphine if you’re uncomfortable.”

  
“I’m good, thanks. Pain’s good, but this catheter thing can go.” Dean was determined to get most of the medical shit out of his body as soon as possible.

  
“We’ll see what Dr. Redwing has to say when she makes her rounds later.” The nurse left the room.


	19. XIX.

“So when are you going to let me drive,” Dean whined as they neared the San Diego area. He’d been out of the hospital for a few days and they were headed back to Stanford. He was still a little sore, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been six days ago. Being treated as an invalid was pissing him off though, he wanted to drive and he was horny. While there’d been plenty of chaste kisses and caresses over the last week privacy was at a premium in the hospital and once he was discharged Sam treated him as though he were made of spun glass. He turned the music up and stared moodily out the window trying to figure out how he was going to go about seducing his brother when they stopped for the night.

  
Sam knew his brother was bored with riding shotgun, but he’d had such a close call in the desert that it was all Sam could do to even let him out of their hotel room after he’d been discharged. He couldn’t shake the sight of Dean, lying in his hospital bed post-op looking as pale as death, with his cuts and bruises standing out in sharp relief. Even his freckles had faded. It scared the crap out of him and if he was being overly cautious, well, it was warranted. The sick panic he felt when he’d seen the flight for life ‘copter take off with Dean on board returned as he glanced at Dean who was pointedly ignoring him and watching the desert fly by his window. Sam knew he needed to move past the trauma they’d both suffered but wasn’t sure he was ready yet.

  
“Dean, slide over, there’s no one on this road sit next to me… please?” Sam held out his hand to his brother in encouragement. Dean slid over and let Sam put his arm around him. “I know you’re bored. You’ve never been a good patient.” Sam kissed his brother’s forehead. “I….I was terrified Dean, so certain that….that he was going to win after all. I couldn’t have dealt with losing you. Not now.”

  
Dean allowed himself to be cuddled and felt a little better sitting next to Sam. “Seriously, dude, I feel so much better. I’m not taking the heavy duty shit they gave me, just that other stuff. I could totally drive.” Dean looked up through his lashes at Sam and did a slow blink.

  
Cursing to himself, Sam looked into his brother’s sad green eyes and knew he couldn’t say no again. “All right, all right, tomorrow she’s all yours, but we’ll stop a little early today.” He cut Dean off as he started to protest, “No, you don’t really get a say in this if you want to get behind the wheel tomorrow. I know I’m being bitchy but tough.”

  
“You know I love your bitch-face little brother, you’re just so darn cute when you’re all righteous!” Dean turned his head and kissed Sam just below his ear. “It makes me all hot and bothered and you know what, I think you know that!” He kissed him again, followed by a light nip at his skin. “Yeah, I think you’re just enjoying seeing me get worked up.”

  
Sam couldn’t stop or hide the smile that popped his dimples into sight as he pulled his brother closer and rubbed his upper arm. He couldn’t wait until they stopped for the night. He’d wanted his brother since he woke up and had been putting anything more serious than kissing off, afraid that things would get out of hand and something inside would tear before Dean had finished healing, but he knew neither one of them would be satisfied putting it off much longer. They’d still have to proceed carefully but Sam thought he could handle a little more. He hugged his brother a little more tightly and bumped their speed up just a bit, suddenly eager to get to that night’s stop.

  
They stopped just north of San Diego – they’d make Palo Alto the next day without having to push too hard. The motel they found was slightly better than their usual stops, but definitely nothing to write home about. The best thing about their room was that it didn’t look like the bedspread could stand on its own. It was a king room, they’d decided it didn’t really matter what the desk clerks thought and they were big guys, the king was much more comfortable all around.

  
Wrapping his arms around Dean, Sam kissed him deeply then drew back, “I’m going to go pick up a few things. Why don’t you lay down for a bit? I’m sure we can find a steakhouse for dinner tonight if you want.”

  
What Dean wanted was more Sam and he had a plan. “Sure, that sounds good, I’m a little tired. Funny how just riding in a car can be so tiring. I never really noticed that before. How long do you think you’ll be?” His hands found Sam’s tight ass and he drew him closer rubbing himself against his growing bulge.

  
“Um, yeah.” Sam fumbled his words as his dick hardened with the attention it was receiving. “I’m not sure, no more than an hour?” He tried unsuccessfully to put a little space between their groins. “Come on Dean, I’ll be back soon.” He kissed his way along Dean’s jaw to his mouth which opened slightly at the first touch of his lips. God his brother was so sweet. It was all he could do to break the kiss and pull out of the embrace to leave on his errands. “Just rest a bit and I’ll be back before you know it. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

  
Once Sam was out of the room, Dean began to set the stage for his planned seduction. For probably the first time in his life he didn’t really care when or even if he ate. He just wanted Sam. The clock/radio/stereo deal in their room had a dock for an iPod and Dean got Sam’s from his bag. He scrolled through the music wincing at some of the selections but figured he could put up with anything as long as Sam liked it. Music taken care of he went around the room and took the light bulbs out of half the lamps making sure he liked how the light level before turning down the big bed. He then headed into the bathroom with his toiletries and shaved and brushed his teeth. Figuring he had about 10 – 15 minutes before Sam returned he found a paper and pen and began his last task.

  
Sam returned in a little less than an hour, pleased with himself and hoping his brother had gotten a least a little rest. “Dean?” He called to him as he opened their door. He didn’t see him but could hear the shower. There a note for him on the table near the door and he smiled as he read and made sure he put the things he’d bought where he wanted them before heading to the bathroom to join him in the shower as requested.

  
“Hey,” Sam stepped into the steamy shower and ran his hand up Dean’s spine raising goose bumps despite the heat. He stepped forward, and drew Dean to him while kissing and nibbling at his shoulders. “I see you missed me. Did you rest at all?”

  
Dean leaned back into his brother’s arms and sighed before replying, “Really Sammy, that’s the first thing that comes to your mind? Did I rest?” He turned his head and smirked with his green eyes focused on Sam’s which were darkening lust as Dean rubbed himself against his erection. “I’ve missed you Sammy, missed this.” He turned so they were face to face and rubbed his dick against his brother’s, pleased with the moan he drew from him.

  
“I know me too.” Sam bit at his brother’s always tempting lower lip before taking his face in his hands and slipping his tongue in to tangle with Dean’s and sweep through his mouth, making sure he tasted every surface. Breaking the kiss and covering his love’s face with open mouth kisses he teased his brother, “No fair you know, brushing your teeth is really unfair.” He continued to kiss his way down Dean’s neck and onto his chest. Sam backed his brother against the tiled wall and continued to kiss his way down his torso. Paying special attention to his erect nipples, Sam was rewarded by a moaning and wiggling older brother as he licked and nipped at the sensitive buds on his chest. “You like that? I told you I’d take care of you.” He looked at his brother and was pleased to see his head thrown back, eyes closed and lips slightly parted allowing the small moans of pleasure to escape.

  
Sam got to his knees hoping the hot water would hold out for a while yet and used his tongue to lap at the new scars on his brother’s abdomen. Trying to soothe rather than stimulate the still sensitive skin surrounding the injuries. Dean had one hand tangled in his hair and the other on the grab bar in the shower. Sam pushed aside the fear he’d felt while sitting at his brother’s bedside and continued to work his way down his brother’s body stopping to kiss and nip at random points. He used his teeth to softly pull at the hairs of his ‘treasure trail’ and moved his hands around to cup his ass and pull him a little more tightly toward him as he reached his goal.

  
Dean braced himself against the wall, pleased that he’d managed to get Sam back into the game. He’d watched his brother as he’d worked his way down his body making sure to pay attention to what had felt the best so he could try it out on him in return. When Sam began to lick long firm strokes up his oh so, sensitive cock and he stopped thinking, his thoughts consumed by the sensations Sam was causing with his lips, tongue, teeth and hands. It was all Dean could do to stay braced against the wall when Sam finally took him into his mouth.

  
The fact that his mouth was stretched around Dean’s cock didn’t stop Sam from trying to smile as Dean cried out his name when he’d finally taken him into his mouth and started to work his tongue over and around his erection. Sam slipped his brother in and out of his mouth, pausing each time the swollen and very sensitive head came in contact with his lips. He didn’t think his brother would last too much longer and he gently cupped his heavy balls and lightly massaged them which elicited another very satisfying moan. He moved hand between Dean’s legs and like before, ran his fingers gently over his rear opening. Sam grinned again as his brother began to thrust into his mouth, his words inarticulate and his need evident.

  
He’d never felt anything as good as his brother’s mouth and he wanted more. When he felt Sam’s fingers on his asshole probing very gently he knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold off much longer. Everything his brother did went right to his cock and balls. He couldn’t stop himself from thrusting into his mouth, not sure whether or not this was OK but past caring. “Sammy, oh fuck, this feels so…..oh fuck, I think I’m gonna come, Sammy.”

  
Pleased with his brother’s response, Sam drew his cock a little farther into his throat and used his tongue to press it against the roof of his mouth while he sucked for all he was worth. His efforts were rewarded by the sound of his name being moaned from his brother’s mouth as he reached orgasm and he swallowed everything that was being shot down his throat. Moving both hands to Dean’s ass, Sam pulled him in even closer and switched to gently lapping at the cock still in his mouth as his brother came down from his high.

  
Dean looked down and his watched his half hard cock slide out of his brother’s mouth and could feel it start to stir again. Sam on his knees with his cock in his mouth was by far the hottest thing he’d ever seen and he was dying to give him the same experience. He couldn’t wait to have that beautiful cock in this mouth. He’d thought about it all day and was determined to give him the best blow job he’d ever had. He balanced himself on his feet again and helped his brother up ready to reciprocate right then and there, Sam however had different plans.

  
Tilting his brother’s head back again, Sam kissed him deeply and let his erection slide against his wet belly. “You are so beautiful when you come undone, Dean. I love you.” The water was beginning to cool slightly. “Let’s finish up in the other room. I love that you put so much thought into this evening. You surprised me. Go on and get dry, I’m going to wash quickly and I’ll be right there. I bought some of the good whiskey while I was out. You can start without me.” Sam kissed Dean once again before he climbed out of the shower.

  
“Sammy?” Dean hesitated before closing the shower curtain again. “I love you too.”

  
Sam stopped in the doorway of the bathroom to just look at his brother who was propped up on the bed, naked, sipping at the whiskey he’d bought. I’m so lucky, he thought. The close call Dean had at their father’s shade’s hands made his stomach cramp again, but it was over and he was alive and well and waiting for him. Tonight life was good.

  
“You were right Sammy, this is the good stuff, the really good stuff,” Dean held out the other glass to his brother. “This can go,” he smirked as he removed the towel Sam had wrapped around his waist. “I like looking at you Sammy.”

  
“I figured after what we’d been through we deserved the best, you deserved the best,” Sam accepted the glass from his brother and sat on the edge of the bed facing him. He raised his glass, “To the future.” Dean repeated the words and they drank, both appreciating the quality of the amber fluid as it warmed its way through their systems.

  
“Kiss me Sammy,” Dean wrapped his hand around his brother’s head and drew him to his parted lips for a kiss. He found he appreciated the fine whiskey even better in his lover’s mouth. He broke the kiss and whispered, “Love you so much Sammy.” Dean put both glasses aside and pulled Sam even closer to deepen the kiss. He took his time and explored every nook and cranny in his love’s mouth before drawing back again. He moved toward the center of the bed and patted the mattress beside him silently inviting Sam to join him.

Pleased that his brother had taken the initiative in their lovemaking, Sam joined him on the bed and stretched out next to him. He was so hard that it hurt but he wasn’t going to rush Dean into anything. He’d meant it when he told him he’d let the older man lead and go at whatever pace felt comfortable for him, he just wanted to be with him. The green eyes he’d fantasized about for the last 4 years were dark with lust and flecked with gold. Their innocence despite the last week’s events tugged at his heart and he pulled him in for another kiss while running his hand down his spine and dipping into the cleft of his ass and back up.

  
Dean was moaning again as Sam controlled both the kiss and the caresses. He wanted to get control of the situation back so he could show his brother how much he loved him and appreciated being together with him so he gently pushed Sam onto his back without breaking the kiss and used his weight to keep him there. “It’s my turn Sammy. I want you to lay back and relax. I’m good with direction so let me know if you need me to change it up.”

  
“Dean, you don’t have to…”

  
“Shhhhh Sammy, I want to do this. I want to blow you and I promise I’ll make it good.” Dean captured Sam’s mouth in a kiss before he could protest again and felt the cock trapped against his leg twitch a bit in response. “That’s it Sammy, just let go.”

  
Sam relaxed, pleased that Dean was taking control, but still worried he might be taking too much too fast. He returned to caressing his back and ass as Dean moved the kisses from his mouth to his jawline, across to his ear, and down his neck.

  
Once he was at the sensitive spot where the neck joins the shoulder, Dean worked at the skin sucking and pulling blood to the surface to mark his little brother as his and judging to the sounds Sam was making he was OK with it, so Dean moved his kisses down Sam’s neck, stopping occasionally to bite lightly at him. When he reached his chest he took his time playing with the hard nipples on his chest. The sounds Sam made when he took the sensitive tips between his teeth and tugged lightly made his dick begin to stir again. He flicked his tongue against each hard bud in turn, enjoying making his brother squirm with pleasure.

  
When he finally worked his way down to Sam’s groin his brother was spilling words, curses and moans all strung together in an order that made no sense and his beautiful cock was leaking enough pre-come that it was shining. Dean put his hand at the base and imitated his brother, by licking the underside of his cock from the bottom to the top, pleased that Sam bucked beneath him and cried his name. Taking his time, Dean used his tongue to clean Sam’s cock before taking the plunge and taking it into his mouth. Dean wasn’t sure how much of his brother’s cock he could take, the guy was big and his cock was long, but he figured what didn’t fit he could jack with the hand he had on the base.

  
Sam nearly came when Dean drew him into his mouth the first time and he put his hand over his brother’s to put enough pressure on the base to keep from coming to quickly, he was loving the feeling of his brother’s tongue wrapping itself around him as he sucked him in and out of those gorgeous lips. He nearly came again when he opened his eyes to watch as Dean worked him. With his other hand he gently guided Dean’s free hand to his balls.

  
True to his word, Dean took the instruction well and was soon massaging his brother’s heavy balls and rubbing his fingers over his asshole, wondering just what it would feel like to have his brother’s fingers inside his own. He let Sam’s cock slip from his mouth and sucked on each of his balls until they were wet and glistening. Dean watched his brother struggling to keep from coming and decided he wouldn’t let him suffer any longer. He traced his tongue over the head and paid attention to the slit at the end, just like Sam’d done for him, before drawing as much of his brother into his mouth as he could.

  
“God Dean, your mouth is perfect, you are perfect,” Sam managed to complete a sentence as he watched his brother continue to work him in deeper and deeper with each pass. It took every ounce of control Sam had to not thrust into Dean’s mouth, not wanting to make him feel out of control of the situation. “Dean, you can back off, I’m going to come.”

  
Rather than taking the out offered by his brother Dean worked at the cock in his mouth a little harder, careful to keep his teeth off of it, but sucking harder with each upstroke and trying to wrap his tongue around it on the down stroke. He put his hand over his brother’s and silently urged him to loosen his grip and relax.

  
Sam let go of his cock and closed his eyes as his brother worked him in and out of his mouth. It wasn’t even a minute before he could feel his release building and he cried Dean’s name as he came.

  
Although he’d been prepared for Sam’s orgasm it still surprised Dean when he felt the first splash hit against the back of his throat. He fought down his gag reflex and managed to swallow almost everything his brother had. Sam wiped a small amount of come from the edge of his brother’s mouth and smiled at him while he continued to suck him gently through the aftershocks.

  
Sam eased Dean off his cock when it started to become too sensitive and pulled him up so he could kiss him and taste himself on his brother’s tongue. “You are amazing, your mouth is incredible.” Sam spoke while pressing light kisses over Dean’s face, forehead and lips. “I love you so much Dean. You really are everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  
“Love you too Sammy. So was I right…” Dean smiled at his younger brother, “I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

  
“It was amazing I know it’s a little weird the first time.” Sam rolled them so they were side by side on the bed again, pulling his brother in close to him. “You are my love Dean, no matter what you are loved,” he whispered into Dean’s ear.

  
Pleased by Sam’s response, Dean snuggled in a little closer. He was fighting to keep his eyes open as exhaustion suddenly washed over him. He didn’t want to disappoint Sam by falling asleep so soon but he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be conscious.

  
“It’s OK. Sleep. We’ve got all the time in the world to be together.” Sam kissed the top of his brother’s head gently and watched as his eyes fluttered closed. “I love you.”


	20. XX.

They were about ninety minutes outside of the Stanford area when Dean had finally worked up enough nerve to ask the question that had been preying on his mind since they woke up earlier that day. “Um, so Sammy, what….I mean, have you….fuck….did you say anything to Jess? You know about, well you know……” Dean’s voice got very small. “Um, us?”

  
Sam sighed, but smiled over at Dean, “I haven’t said anything yet. Actually we haven’t spoken since you got hurt. She was pretty upset, no, pretty pissed that I was staying with you while you recuperated. I didn’t want to break things off over the phone, but she kind of beat me to the punch. I’m not sure what I’ll find back the apartment. I don’t even know what I would have told her to be honest.”

  
“We immediately went after dad, John’s spirit and I hadn’t really had time to think about it when she kind of gave me an ultimatum.” Sam took Dean’s hand in his and moved a little closer on the seat. “There was no way I was leaving your side. She just didn’t, couldn’t understand.” He placed a gentle kiss on his brother’s blushing cheek. “I love it when you blush, you are so fucking hot.”

  
Blushing an even deeper shade of red Dean squeezed his brother’s hand, hard. “I’m so not the girl, dude!” He continued a mild protest but really didn’t mind too much. Sam could call him anything he wanted, he’d just felt he had to make a bit of a fuss for form’s sake. He ran his hand through Sam’s hair, “Besides you’re the one with the long hair!” They both laughed and Dean came back around to his original concern, “So, want me to wait in the car when we get there?”

  
“That’d probably be for the best at first. I don’t know what I’m walking into I’ll call you if she’s gone and we can stay there until we figure things out.” Sam looked down at his hands. He felt terrible that the last conversation he’d had with Jess had been so final. Breaking up was never not going to hurt, but it would have been more respectful if he’d at least had a chance to tell her that he didn’t regret a minute of their time together and that he did love her, just not in the same way anymore.

  
Dean had one more question he wanted to ask his brother but decided to wait to see what happened after they’d gotten him home. He desperately hoped that he could convince Sam to come on the road with him again, but knew that his education meant a lot to him. Dean decided that he’d do his best to settle down in the college town with Sam and get a job at a garage or something similar, if necessary, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever really get used to not hunting. For Sam though, he’d try.

  
Dean brought the Impala to a stop in front of Sam’s building and they both looked at the burned out apartment in the top corner with mounting horror. Dean spoke first, “Whoa, fuck, dude, is that your place?”

  
“Yeah, Dean, it is, was. Shit, I wonder what happened.” Sam tried Jess’s phone again. He’d been calling it all morning and it had been going straight to voicemail. “Still going to voicemail, fuck me! Come on, let’s go see if anyone’s home at all and see what they have to say.”

  
The half of the building where Sam’s apartment had been was empty; water, smoke and fire damage had rendered it uninhabitable. So the boys moved to the other side. No one really knew much other than that the fire had started at night and spread quickly. No one knew whether or not anyone had been injured and none of them knew Jess personally.

  
Back in the Impala Sam called Jess’s parents, a call he’d been hoping to avoid. He’d had them in his contacts since he spent the Christmas holidays with them. His brother walked down the street to the convenience store to see if anyone there had any additional information and Sam suspected to give him some privacy.

  
Dean walked back to the Impala with coffee and a couple of candy bars hoping that Sam was able to locate Jess. His heart dropped when he saw that his brother was crying. Shit, he thought, that can’t be good. “Hey Sammy,” He’d left the coffee on the roof before sliding into the car and reaching a hand out to his brother.

  
“She was home….I mean in the apartment,” Sam grabbed his brother’s hand and pulled him into an embrace, sobbing into his shoulder. “She….she’s gone. She’s dead. They don’t know how the fire started. They……they had to identify her through dental records. Fuck, Dean, they blame me for not being there, for letting her die.” Sam continued to sob silently as his brother cradled his head and rocked him.

  
Once Sam calmed down a bit, Dean dried his tears and kissed him gently on both eyes and then his mouth. “I can’t begin to imagine how you feel, but I’m here for you and I’ll do whatever you need to try to get the answers you need. I’ve got your back now and forever.”

  
“I know and I’ve got yours. We’ll figure this out, it’s what we do, the family business right?” Sam smiled sadly and looked over to his brother for confirmation.

  
Dean sat lost in thought for a couple of minutes, occasionally looking over at his brother who was staring out the window at his burned out home. He got out the car and opened the trunk and grabbed their father’s journal. He flipped to the first page and re-read for the thousandth time the description of the night they’d lost their mom. “Sammy, come here for a minute will ‘ya?” Dean handed him the journal and pointed to the passage he wanted him to read and gave him a couple of minutes to process the information before speaking again. “Sound familiar at all?”

  
“Yeah, it does. It looks like we’ve got work to do.” Sam slammed the trunk closed.

The End


End file.
